Objection
by Missy Tea
Summary: She's a lawyer, trying a murder case, who has sworn she'll never fall in love again. He's the victims doctor, and one of the witnesses, who lives in hope that one day he'll find the girl he's been searching for. Will conflict of interest keep them apart? Will justice be served?
1. Chapter 1

**_I haven't written in the Downton fandom for simply ever, so I must say its nice to be back. While I am a major Chelsie shipper, I am obsessed with Isobel and Dr Clarkson at the moment so I thought I would give them a go. Chelsie, will of course feature as well._**

 ** _I own nothing. I'm just having fun. Don't sue._**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

Love is a funny thing. It's been said before, so many times that it's become such a cliché. But how else can it be described? It's baffling, confusing, exciting and exhilarating all at once. Perhaps someday someone will think of a better sentence to describe love, but somehow I doubt it. The human race has spent thousands of years trying to put it into words. Millions of songs, poems, sonnets, and love letters have been written and yet here we all still are trying to make sense of the peculiar feeling we call love. So for now, let's just say that love is a funny thing.

It can be found in exciting places, like a holiday fling that turned into so much more, the stranger that picked up your keys when you were juggling too many files and a cup of coffee, your best friends brother who you've only met once but haven't been able to get out of your head since. It's a feeling that takes your breath away, whacks you behind the knees, and changes everything in a split second. It's the thing that you never saw coming, the sensation we never expect to experience. We spend most of our lives waiting for it, without even realizing we are indeed waiting. Some people will wait forever without even knowing. Love can happen so suddenly, and so slowly all at once.

It can always be found in places we never thought to look until you do. The man who's worked in the office next to you for the last ten years, who you chat to during lunch, and laugh together over drink on a Friday night. The person who's been your best friend since high school, who's held you as you cried over all the other failed romances, and who you held when they cried over theirs. Even the person you've hated forever can turn into so much more over time. It can sneak up on you, so slowly you don't even realize it's there, until something one day shocks you out of you're the bubble you've been living in. The best friend announces they're getting married, the man next door moving to another floor or another job entirely, the person you hated showing a side to them you never imagined they could possess.

Isobel Crawley, however, had made up her mind that love, no matter which kind, was now a distant memory. Please don't mistake me, she certainly wasn't lacking love in her life, both past and present. She had loved deeply, and still did. She had a loving family, plenty of friends, and a cat who she believed loved her for more than just food. She had always been a pretty girl, and had had boyfriends all throughout her younger years. Boys who liked her feistiness and long blonde hair, boys who had seen her as something to tame, and men who had liked her maturity and frankness about life. She had loved them all, in her own little way, even the ones she wished never to see again, and they had loved her in their own ways as well.

She had always been chatty, willing to talk to anyone about everything from the weather to huge life decisions, and therefore she had many friends. Some were the kind that you invited around for tea every so often, and wished them for their life's achievements, and others whom she would, and had, trusted with her deepest darkest thoughts and fears. No, Isobel knew she was loved, in many different ways. She just didn't think she would ever find romantic love again.

Her husband had died almost ten years ago. Reginald had been her other half, the water to her fire, her ying to her yang, and in many ways her better half. A part of him would always haunt her, stay with her, and keep her company. He was always in the back of her mind, making snide comments, and backing her up ferociously when she got into yet another scrap with Violet Crawley. She had gone on one or two dates after he had died. The shy mail clerk, the accountant who did the firm's books, the psychiatrist who lived in her building. She had never found that connection with someone again, and consequently things had usually died out by the second or third date. Isobel found she didn't mind so much when they did. The whole dating thing seemed to take up an extraordinary amount of time and effort, all for a nice dinner and a bit of awkward chatter.

But she craved it at times, the feeling she had with Reg, a man who would be there to rub her shoulder after a long day at work, a man who would take her mind off her problems, a man who knew her inside and out. It wasn't just his company she missed, Isobel had plenty of people surrounding her to keep her company, but rather the connection the two of them had shared. The fact that he knew her so well that she never had to pretend to be something she wasn't. Someone who knew all the bad things about her and loved her for them anyway. Someone she could tell her silly petty problems to and not be judged for them.

It was, of course, possible that her memories chose to gloss over the less than happy moments of their marriage. All the times they had argued over money, because paying for two degrees at once, with no family support, hadn't been easy. When Mathew was born, and Isobel loathed Reg because he got to leave, travel, while she was stuck home with the baby. The horrible few months when Mathew had fallen from a tree, and damaged his back to the extent the doctors weren't sure he would ever walk again. All the times they had bickered over things that didn't matter, but they'd both just been pushed too far, and it was easier to take it out on one another than to face what was really bothering them.

She supposed all marriages had their ups and downs. Isobel chose to focus on the good memories, rather than the bad. Watching together as their son was awarded top marks in school, year after year. When they had celebrated her fiftieth birthday on the lawn with all their friends. The time when they had both come home from work in horrible moods, and had somehow ended up in bed with a bottle of wine, and several dvds and hadn't gotten up again for the rest of the weekend, and the time he had whisked her off on a surprise holiday to Greece, purely because he felt they deserved it.

It was the little things that had made their marriage as special as it was. Things that no one ever really wrote about, or even really noticed. It was all the shared smiles, the chase kisses as they went about their day, the times they had caught each others eye from across the room. There would never be another Reg, but still, she was starting to hate returning home after a long day at work to a cold empty flat. She hated leaving it in the mornings as well, knowing that he wasn't right behind her, grumbling about how his coat was still damp from the night before.

"Isobel?"

She jumped, pulling herself from the plethora of memories that had invaded her mind and turned away from the window of her office to find her secretary, Ethel, standing in the doorway, a sheaf of papers under her arm and a cup of tea in her hand. The sunlight that was streaming in from the window caught her hair, making it look like a flame, and highlighting the dust notes that surrounded them. Ethel stepped forward, her heels clacking on the wooden floor and handed Isobel the cup which she accepted gratefully. Isobel thanked her and gestured for her to sit in the chair across the desk from her. Taking a sip of the tea, and letting it burn her tongue before swallowing she waited for Ethel to shuffle through her paperwork.

"The court date for the Kruger case has been set for the twenty third of March," Ethel began, extracting a sheaf of paper and sliding it across the desk " and Crawley and Associates have sent over a settlement offer."

Isobel pulled her reading glasses from their case, allowing it to snap closed and she slid the glasses onto her nose. She was silent for a moment as she read the offer, the neatness of the black of the print against the white of the paper. This was how Isobel saw the world, in black and white, with no grey, despite the amount of times her job had forced her to work in the more shaded areas of life. She scanned the document to get the gist of the offer, before starting again and reading it properly. With a snort she dropped the paper on her desk and slid it back towards Ethel.

"He'll agree to a hundred and sixty hours of community service, and the surrendering of his gun licences." She said incredulously, her voice barely held in check. "Has Violet finally lost it? This is a murder charge, not some silly assault."

"They're still claiming it was a suicide." Ethel said with a shrug, her thin shoulders that of a young girl and not those of someone who received top marks at law school. Ethel was working and studying at the same time, and while Isobel had once done the same she had no idea how Ethel did it now. "You know what Violet is like."

Violet Crawley was one of the best lawyers in the city. She was ruthless, scheming and could be exceptionally charming when she put her mind it. She towered over Isobel, and had a way of looking down her nose at anyone who wasn't on her side. She had started at the bottom, much the same way as Isobel had, and now she was a named partner in her firm. They had been in law school together, but a few years apart. Violet was distantly related to Isobel's late husband, and when Isobel graduated from Law School she had offered her a job at her firm. Isobel had declined though, choosing to work in the public defenders offices, something that she always got the impression Violet hadn't forgiven her for. They had bumped heads many times over the years, over many different cases. It became almost personal when they two of them got going. What was amazing about both of them though, was that they could argue in court like two cats in an alley way, and bump into each other half an hour later in their personal capacities, and chat like old friends. They both had gone through a lot, and they both understood each other that when they were in court, all gloves came off.

"I do, but I always thought she was on the side of a victim. They must have something." She mused, sliding her glasses off her nose again and placing the arm against her lips "The last offer at least involved jail time. A pitiful amount, I'll grant you, but jail time never the less."

"So I take it that we're not taking the deal then?" Ethel asked. Isobel was silent for moment before heaving a sigh

"We've got twenty four hours before we have to respond. Let's hold off on declining until we can find out what Violet has, that we don't. I'd rather have an admission of guilt and some community service that nothing at all. At least he would then have a record. In the mean time, let's try and move along with the case."

"So, I'm spending my morning hounding Violet again?" Ethel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No. You're doing your job, and waiting for Violet to get impatient. She can never resist a good old fashioned brag." Isobel replied, sitting up and waking up her computer. Ethel nodded and stood up, collecting her papers and straightening her jacket as she did.

"So I can tell Sybil to keep researching the case?"

"Please do. And tell her she's taking second chair on this."

"Are you sure she's ready to go up against her grandmother?" Ethel asked, stopping before she opened the door to Isobel's office.

"No." Isobel admitted with a sigh, her fingers drumming on the worn wood of her desk "but I can't keep her in the file room forever, and I'd be interested to see if Violet has a heart under all those layers after all."

Ethel nodded, and left the room, closing the door behind her. Isobel slid her glasses back on and turned to her laptop to go through the case notes again.

It was certainly an odd case. A woman had been found under a tree in a dog park, a rope around her neck and a plastic bag over her head. She had been there for a number of days, and the police had ruled it out as a suicide, especially when a note had been found, stating that she couldn't live with the pain of her cancer any longer. Yet for some unknown reason, the family had requested a further autopsy, and it was then that they had found a brain bleed. A little more digging had revealed a DNA under her finger nails. DNA that had belonged to her long term boyfriend, who also happened to be a recluse, with a bit of a shady past. It had landed on Isobel's desk, a few days after that, when further investigation had revealed that there had been several charges of assault laid by her against him, all of which had been dropped a few days after they were laid.

There was no doubt in Isobel's mind that this was not a suicide, and in her mind the DNA was enough to confirm it. Without that Violet had a much easier task of convincing the judge that it was a suicide, a tragic loss. Still, it wasn't enough. One could wave as many scientific facts in court as you could find, but juries needed a living breathing human to change their mind.

Sighing, she closed the folder and stared at her screensaver of her and Mathew. It was for him that she worked so hard on these cases. It made her feel better that she had taken a murderer out of the everyday life of her little boy, even though Mathew was a grown man who lived in his own apartment and hardly needed her at all any longer. Sometimes it felt that she needed him more than he would ever need her again.

Her door burst open, and Sybil Crawley stuck her head around the frame. Her dark hair was a bit of a mess, like she had run her fingers through it several times in frustration, and her cheeks were flushed excitement, despite the dark circles under her eyes. Whether the darkness was from tiredness, or yesterday's eyeliner or a mixture of the two Isobel wasn't sure.

"Did you mean it?" she asked breathlessly "I get to be second chair?"

Isobel looked her up and down once, noticing that while her suit had changed, the shirt beneath had not, and frowned

"Sybil, did you spend the night here?" she asked sternly.

"I was working on the case" Sybil answered, moving into the room, and closing the door behind her, as though it didn't really matter "I really get to be second chair?"

"Yes" Isobel said with a nod. "I'm sorry that your first case will be against your grandmother, but if I wait until I get a case she's not connected with, I'll wait rather a long time. However, if you find that it's all a bit much, I will find you another case. I will do the same if I feel you're not coping. Are we clear?"

"I understand that" Sybil said, her face suddenly turning serious, reminding Isobel forcibly of her mother when she was younger. Cora had done a few years in this office as well, before being swept off her feet by the handsome Robert Crawley. It often felt that the whole Crawley family was somehow engrained into the cracks of this office. "I always knew that I would come up against granny at some point. I don't know what shocked her more, Edith becoming a journalist or me coming to work here."

"Well we're lucky to have you." Isobel said with a small smile. She wasn't one to over praise her staff but she always wanted them to feel appreciated. It wasn't always easy to work in the DA's office, when there were firms like Violet's who offered almost three times the salary, and an office instead of a cubicle. But the experience was something that couldn't be rivaled. You could almost jump a year as an associate if you worked a year here first. At first Isobel had thought that's what Sybil was doing, and she was reluctant to let Sybil near a client that was only there to be a ladder to a better place. But as time went on she realized that Sybil was there because she wanted to help people. She wanted things to be black and white as well, and not grey. She wanted to be responsible for putting the bad guys away, and not helping them get off. So, like she would with any newly qualified lawyer, Isobel took Sybil under her wing, and slowly but surely let her grow her own.

It hadn't been easy on Sybil. There had been a lot of family pressure to join the family firm, as her older sister Mary had, but Sybil had always been head strong and she knew her own mind, which was one of the many reasons Isobel liked her so much. In a way she reminded Isobel of herself when she was younger.

Still, some days she couldn't help but wonder if watching Mary fast track her way to being junior partner sometimes bothered Sybil and that's why she was so eager to prove herself.

"You really don't need to stay here all night however" Isobel said, waving Sybil towards the chair "the trail only starts in a few weeks and we've got a good case so far. You'll burn out before you can really get going."

"I didn't mean to" Sybil said a little sheepishly, sinking into the chair opposite her boss "but I found something, and when I've got an idea I have to keep going before it becomes stale."

"Well let's hear it then." Isobel said, fighting a smile. Sybil shot her a nervous smile before glancing down at the folder on her lap.

"Well I finally managed to get the medical records of our victim. It turns out that apart from the cancer that her parents told us about, she also had numerous allergies. She was allergic to bees, peanuts, and dogs."

"If she was allergic to dogs, why would she commit suicide in a dog park? Why make those last few moments of your life even worse than they already are?"

"Exactly." Sybil nodded "also, her parents said she wasn't very outdoors minded, so why choose a park? Anyway. I did a little more digging. I can't prove that she had never been to the park before, but I can tell you that her boyfriend had. He bought a golden retriever a few months ago, and joined the training club there. Apparently he only ever attended two or three lessons, but it at least shows that he knew of it's existence, which he denied in his original statement. I was planning to head over there today, and see if they had a membership form or something that he would have filled in."

"Proving that he knew where the place was doesn't prove that he killed her though, and how would he have got the body into the place?"

"I'm still working on that" Sybil admitted "but it's the defenses job to prove reasonable doubt that he didn't do it. The more little things we give them to discredit the harder it becomes for them."

"That's true" Isobel agreed "but we also don't want to give the impression that we're throwing mud hoping something will stick. They can still argue that it was a suicide. Maybe he was meeting another woman there, so she decided that would be the place she ended it? Who knows?"

"Well that brings me to my next point" Sybil said, flipping over a few pages in the folder to get to one of the bottom pages.

"Now that we've got her medical records, I can say that her doctor never mentioned anything about depression, in fact he wrote that he was surprised she hadn't come down with it at all, given the severity of her illness. She never went to a therapist either. She went to him, and the dentist and that was about it. She had quite an extensive medical aid as well, so she wasn't in debt or anything, so it wasn't a ploy to get insurance or anything like that, and apparently her cancer had started going into remission so it wasn't as if she had lost hope. From where I'm looking, she didn't have a reason to kill herself at all."

"If only we had someone who would tell the jury that." Isobel sighed "we have her parents, but what parent wants to believe that their child is unhappy, no matter how old they are? She didn't have many friends, and the ones we've got were overseas at the time of her death so who knows what she was thinking? People are always hiding their true feelings."

Sybil lent back in her chair and thoughtfully bit her nail. It was a habit that she had been trying to kick ever since she was a teenage girl, but it helped her think.

"What about the doctor?" She said suddenly. "It says in his notes that she didn't seem to be depressed, and he saw her a few days before she died. "

"Violet will argue that he's not a psychiatrist, merely a GP" Isobel said thoughtfully "but it's worth a try. Will he talk though?"

"I can go and talk to him after I visit the park?" Sybil said eagerly. Isobel turned to look out the window. It was beautiful day outside, hardly a cloud in the sky. It was too good a day to spend indoors poring over paperwork.

"No" she decided "after you go to the park I want you to go home and get some sleep. You look like hell. I'll go and see the doctor; maybe I can persuade him to have coffee with me or something."

"Okay" Sybil said, getting to her feet, and handing the folder over to Isobel. "I'll let you know what I find at the park. Hopefully I can find a way to get the body in after closing time, or even better, an eye witness."

Isobel chuckled; she missed the days when she thought it could be that easy.

"Take Carson with you." She said, opening the folder on her lap. She glanced up in time to see Sybil's face fall slightly.

"But-"

"I'm sorry Sybil, but this is your first big case, and I cannot let you run completely free yet. Besides, Carson is an excellent lawyer, and has a nose like a bloodhound. He might notice something we have missed."

Sybil nodded, and left the room, leaving Isobel feeling slightly guilty for insisting she take the older man with her. Sybil was like a race horse, chomping at the bit waiting for the gates to open. But if you shot the gate too early the race was as good as lost, and Isobel had seen far too many lawyers lose their license because someone had let them run amok on a case that they weren't ready to tackle on their own. Part of her job, was to keep the lawyers themselves under control, which was often the hardest part of her job.

Returning her attention to the file in front of her she read the doctors notes and medical history. Like all doctors, he had terrible handwriting, but as Isobel's father had been a doctor she had long ago learned to decipher it. Sybil was right about one thing, depression was hardly ever mentioned and when it was it was highlighting the lack of it. Why would a woman kill herself when she had fought this hard to live? Unless of course she hadn't.

Isobel flipped forward to find the Doctors details. His name was Dr. Richard Clarkson, and he had been practicing medicine for almost thirty years. She opened up the search bar on her computer and typed in his name. She waited a few seconds for the results to load and clicked on the first link it came up with.

She read through the page with interest. The man was smart, having published several papers on many different medical subjects, including, she noticed with interest, one on depression. She wondered why he had chosen to remain practicing as a simple GP instead of moving on to higher levels.

He had done charity work in Africa, and had spent a lot of his youth working for doctors without borders, hopefully something she could highlight to endear him to the jury when the case ended up in court.

She scrolled down, reading about his practice and staff until she got to a photo at the bottom. In the photo there were two nurses, and a receptionist, and an older man she presumed was Richard Clarkson.

She glanced at her office door, making sure it was closed, and then berating herself for doing so, before zooming in on his face. He wasn't a very muscular man, but was rather skinny, and he had graying hair. There were lines on his face, smiling lines, she noted with a twinge of satisfaction, and he had bright blue eyes. He wasn't looking at the camera, but rather something in the distance, a look of slight amusement on his face.

'The jury will respond well to him' she thought to herself. She had once lost a case because the witness she put on the stand was arrogant to the extent that even she wanted to smack him at the end, and the jury had ended up letting the accused go, despite the fact that Isobel had built a very strong case against him. To this day, Isobel swore that the only reason she lost the case was because of that witness, and it had been a mistake she's taken pains never to have happen again. It seemed virtually impossible to get twelve complete strangers convinced of your innocence, but it was easy to turn hundreds against you, simply by opening your mouth.

Glancing at the time, Isobel stood and grabbed her coat and her bag. She only had paperwork to do today, a few motions to file and case notes to write up. Everything that could easily wait a few hours, and it really was too beautiful of a day to spend in a stuffy office. The doctor's address hadn't been too far away, she might as well grab a cup of coffee and walk over to see him, even though she had neglected to make an appointment.

She headed towards the elevator, pausing only to let Ethel know where she was going. As the doors closed slid closed Isobel got a snap shot of her little office. It wasn't a fancy office, some of the chairs were a bit wobbly, and the printer had to be abused before it would work, but what made it special was the people that worked inside the small little cubicles. While they all had the common goal in mind they were all different in their special ways. Sybil, who was so eager to prove herself, Ethel, who was struggling to keep her head above water and yet managing to keep smiling. Charles, who after leaving them for a corporate firm for five years, had come back to where his heart truly lie, and married his best friend a year after that. He was methodical, diligent and could come off as a little bit snobbish. His wife, Elsie was the heart of this place. She was the secret keeper, the peacemaker, and the only one who wasn't scared of Charles. She would descend from a high to inform him that not all of us were born with a silver spoon in their mouths, and he would bluster for awhile, yet every night they left the office together, hand in hand. Thomas, who was excellent in his work, and unlucky in everything else, who always seemed to be stirring trouble, which occasionally came to a head. Tom, who seemed to carry a lot of anger around, softened at a grin from John, and melted when Sybil walked into the room.

There were many more of them, some she rarely saw as they were in different departments, and others she worked closely with on a daily basis. But each of them was different, and she couldn't imagine her life without any of them.

Her home life was sometimes lonely, and sometimes she craved someone to come home to, but her work life was not lonely in the least. It was filled with dedication, passion, humor and love. Everything a solid relationship needed.

And for now, that's all she needed.

 ** _Please review and let me know your thoughts thus far!_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you all for the reviews on the first chapter. I hope you all continue to enjoy this one!**_

* * *

Most people hated doctor's offices. Whether it was the strong smell of antiseptic ointment, or the plain cleanliness of it all, or just the fact that no one who was in the doctor's office was ever happy to be there, many people would rather suffer than go there. The only people who didn't seem to mind were the small children, who roamed around playing with Lego blocks, and crayons, until the doctor called them and their parents, and then they would probably to stuck with a needle, resulting in the life time fear of doctors that so many people suffered from.

Isobel, on the other hand, had grown up in doctor's offices and therefore regarded them as a second home. Her father had been a doctor, and she had spent many weekends roaming his offices, being his apprentice for the day, while her mother and sister roamed the shopping malls. Isobel had never been one for trying on shoes that would make her feet ache, and clothes that were so tight that she could barely breathe in them. She had preferred jeans and a tee-shirt, her long blonde hair done up in a simple ponytail. She was happiest when she was with her father. He was her favorite, and she was his. They connected on a higher level, something that her mother had never really understood. Her mother and her didn't always get on, but they would escape one another on the weekends, Isobel heading to her father's practice, and her mother usually going in the opposite direction.

As she got older she was determined that she would be just like her father. She was either going to be a doctor or a nurse, and she spent as much time as she could learning from him. He taught her how to read blood work, how to read an x-ray, and most importantly how to be sympathetic. When she hit her teenage years, she would double as a receptionist for him in the afternoons in return for experience and a little extra cash. She had loved it, loved being able to make things people feel better, loved being able to make them smile when they felt like dying.

But like all good things, it had to come to an end. When Isobel was in her final year of high school her father suffered a fateful stroke. She hadn't been there when he died, but had rather been on a date with a boy who's name she couldn't even remember now. When she got the call she rushed off to the hospital, only to be told that she was too late. It had crushed her. Her world seemed to suction in on her, and all she could think of was how she hadn't been there. Her father was her idol, the man who had devoted his life to medicine, but yet medicine hadn't been able to save his life, or prolong it long enough that she could say goodbye.

So she backed away from it. She avoided the hospital, kicked and screamed before she went to the nurse's office, and packed all her father's medical journals away. His practice got sold, and she never set foot in it again. She inherited a reasonable amount, the same as her sister did, with the majority of the money going to her mother. She withdrew from her old life, neglected to return the texts of her friends, and slowly but surely stopped all her extra mural activities. She completed her final year in a daze, getting high marks, because all she had the energy and inclination to do was study until her eyes smarted. She collected her certificate, and went home, not bothering to attend any of the parties that followed graduation. Not that she had been invited to any.

And there she stayed. She read books, and watched movies, and watched as her little sister blossomed. She was taking a gap year, is what her mother told everyone. Isobel disagreed. A gap year meant she had a plan, that she needed a break before forging ahead on her next great adventure, but Isobel had no idea what she was going to do with her life. Her mother encouraged her to travel, but Isobel didn't want to see the world, when her world no longer existed.

It wasn't until her sister's best friend, Rebecca, invited her little sister to a party thrown by some of the older teenage boys in the neighborhood. Rebecca's older sister, Elsie, had agreed to chaperone to make sure the girls stayed out of trouble, and had arrived at five o'clock sharp to get them to the party on time. Isobel had planned on spending the day in bed, rereading crime novel that she had probably read three times by now when she was pulled out of her bedroom by a strong Scottish accent ordering the two younger ones to 'move their asses'. Opening her door, and edging into the lounge, she had found a petite, slender girl, with pale skin, auburn hair and piercing blue eyes. She was sprawled in a chair, flicking through one of the many home décor magazines that littered Isobel's house, and twirling her car keys around her finger. It was hard to believe that the loud voice had emanated from such a tiny person. Isobel moved into the room, the sound of her steps attracting the other girl's attention. Elsie had looked up from the magazine and grinned

"These two" she said in a softer voice, her accent lilting pleasantly "anyone would think they'd been invited to tea by the Queen by the way they're behaving."

For the first time in weeks, Isobel laughed.

"Are you sure you can manage to keep an eye on them by yourself?" she found herself asking, moving to sit on the couch opposite Elsie.

"These two are so joined at the hip, it's like watching one person." Elsie had replied, with a fond shake of her head "but, I wouldn't say no to some company. You might want to change out of Minnie though" She added, cocking her head in Isobel's direction, and before she knew it, she was showered and her Minnie Mouse pajama's had been replaced by jeans, sandals, and a flowery shirt. It felt like she had barely blinked before she was ensconced in the front seat of Elsie's tiny bug, with the two younger ones in the back.

In the next few weeks Elsie managed to wake Isobel up again. She was a woman with a lot of energy, and had a strong passion for life. They became almost family as they often baby sat the two younger girls, both of them grateful for the company. Elsie never asked about Isobel's father, somehow guessing that she didn't want to talk about it, and it gave Isobel something that didn't seem to be shadowed by her father's memory. They made plans together, to travel together at some point, who they were and were not allowed to marry, and promised that they would end up in the same retirement home together where they would continue to cause trouble until the day they died. They were the first person the other turned too when something was needed, and became even more joined at the hip than their sisters.

It wasn't until a few thugs broke into Elsie's home one night when their parents were out, and smashed the place up a bit that once again everything changed. Elsie's sister, Becky, had been badly beaten up, and developed post traumatic stress. Their carefree way of life had fast come to an end, when Elsie was left dealing with a sister who seemed to have opted out of the world.

"She won't speak Iz" Elsie said, angrily sucking on a cigarette, her usually neat hair was in a birds nest of curls, and her eyes ringed with dark circles. "She has nightmares every night, but she won't tell me about them even though she wakes up screaming. She was always sensitive, cried for a week when dad accidently hit a hare on the way home one night, and I can't fix this by telling her the bunny has gone to bunny heaven. The bruises have healed, but her mind hasn't and the therapy isn't helping because she knows that they're going to cut a deal and get off lightly and they'll be roaming the streets again. Goddamnit!" Elsie threw the cigarette down and angrily stubbed it out under her foot. Isobel had long given up asking her to quit, so she watched her do it, and tried not to look too judgmental.

"I'm sorry" Isobel had replied, feeling useless as she said it. "I understand better than anyone what both of you are going through. I just wish there was something I could do."

"You could find me one hell of a lawyer, so I could sue the bastards" Elsie had joked without humor. But the idea took root in her mind, and in a few months time, she and Elsie had both applied to law school, and were well on their way to becoming the kind of lawyers that wouldn't let the bad guys go. She knew that it was a bit of a pipedream, that life wasn't that simple, but it didn't stop her from hoping that she could make a slight difference in the world.

Unfortunately that had been the final straw with her mother, who upon hearing that her eldest daughter wanted to become a Lawyer, had gone ballistic. According to her, lawyers were money grabbing sharks which the world was better off without, and the fact that her daughter wanted to become one of them was simply shocking. It didn't seem to matter that Isobel had no intention for working for one of the big firms, but rather wanted to work for the state. In fact that seemed to make it even worse. Things had been rough between Isobel and her mother since her father's death, both of them always seeming to be on a different page to the other, and after a day of screaming at one another, Isobel's mother had withdrawn the funding for Isobel's degree. That was the last day she saw her mother.

Isobel still had most of her father's money put away, but it wasn't enough for all her schooling, as well as living expenses. She was forced to get a job, starting with a waitressing job at the local pub, where a lot of the lawyers from the nearest court seemed to end their days with a stiff drink before heading home. It was through one of them that she got a job in the State's attorney offices, working her way up from secretary, up to paralegal while she studied. The day she and Elsie had graduated and had gone up to receive their awards; no one was in the crowd cheering for Isobel. But in the end, that suited Isobel fine. She had gotten there on her own, and she was proud of it, and she knew that her father would be proud of her for doing it.

So while she would never find the love for medicine again like she once had, she could now sit in a doctor's office, and be surrounded by happy memories.

However, she was getting a bit tired of sitting in this doctor's office. It wasn't a bad doctors office to be stuck in. The magazines were relatively new, and the chairs were fairly comfortable, and if that didn't hold your attention there was some striking abstract art on the walls but she had been here for over an hour, and despite the receptionist's promises that he would be with her shortly, here she still sat. She cast a sneaky glance at her watch before Isobel gathered her stuff and walked towards the young girl that was manning the front desk.

"I'm terribly sorry" she said with a smile "but I really need to be getting back to the office, and I can see the doctor is very busy with patients. I would hate to use any of his valuable time, but would you mid asking him to phone me when he has a moment?" she slid her business card across the desk to the slender young woman, but before she could take it, a man's voice with a vague Scottish accent barked out

"Lydia? Has Mrs. Parkinson's blood results come back yet?"

Lydia jumped slightly and clicked away on her computer, before shaking her head

"ah well" the voice said at a lower volume, its owner stepping out from the passage way behind Lydia's desk "I'll just have to ring them tomorrow, and tell them to get a move on."

Isobel quickly snatched her card back, as the owner of the voice was none other than the man she was here to see. She took a moment to asses him. He was a little taller than she had originally thought, as well as a little bit older. But he had kind eyes, and their blue hue was offset by his grey hair. He was wearing a shirt and tie, with his white coat draped over his arm. Since the photograph that she had seen was taken he had grown a mustache, which Isobel was pleased to note was neatly trimmed and not at all untidy.

"I'll chase them up this afternoon" Lydia volunteered "I have to place an order with them for more lab tubes anyway."

"Dr. Clarkson" Isobel jumped in before he could reply to Lydia's offer "I wonder if I might have a moment of your time."

He barely glanced at her before taking the clipboard that Lydia was holding out to him, and signing the bottom of it with a flourish

"Dr. Lewis will be in any moment from now, and I'm sure he'll be happy to answer any of your questions. Just leave your details with Lydia, and he'll be with you as soon as he gets in." Dr Clarkson said, handing back the clipboard "I wish I could help, but it is my afternoon off, and I'm already leaving an hour later than I should."

Isobel blinked at him and didn't answer. After a beat he sighed and bestowed a kind smile upon her

"Or I'll be in tomorrow morning, and I can help you then." He added.

"I'm not here for a consult" Isobel said, eventually finding her tongue "I'm Isobel Crawley, and I work for the States attorney. We're currently preparing to go to court against Benjamin Kruger, over the death of his fiancé Felicity Jones, and it's my understanding she was a patient of yours?"

A sad expression ghosted over his face, and he stood a little straighter.

"A terrible shame that." He said softly "and I wondered when I might be hearing from your offices Mrs Crawley, but I'm afraid that I cannot help you due to patient confidentiality, which, as I'm sure you know, still holds despite the patient being dead. I'm sorry."

"They hold unless the family gives permission for you to speak." Isobel corrected, withdrawing a folder from her bag, and showing him the top page "Mr. and Mrs. Jones have both signed agreements that they are happy for their daughter's medical records to be unsealed. We've already spoken in length to her specialist, but he was able to tell us very little. In the clinical notes you sent over to him, you seemed to know her a lot better than he did, and that's what I've come to talk to you about."

"I see" Dr Clarkson said "and I will be more than willing to talk to you Mrs. Crawley, however I would like to get out of here. My partner has been on leave for the past two weeks, so I've been working double shifts, and while it may sound callous of me, I am really looking forward to an afternoon off."

"I understand. What would be a good time for me to come tomorrow?"

Lydia opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off by Dr. Clarkson,

"It's hard to tell, some days there's never a good time. Why don't you just join me for a cup of coffee now? There's a nice coffee shop down the road, and I personally could use some sun."

Once again Isobel was taken aback by him, but she found herself agreeing.

'Excellent" he said with a nod, "let me just grab my coat."

He disappeared into the depths of the building again, leaving Isobel to wait with Lydia, who was still working on her computer while wearing a peculiar expression on her face.

"Is everything alright?" Isobel asked quietly. Lydia smiled, and rolled her eyes as she rolled her chair back from the computer screen to look at Isobel.

"Its nothing really," she said softly, peering backwards to make sure that Dr Clarkson was out of earshot "it's just how he's been complaining all morning to me about how he can't wait to go home, and now he's asking a perfect stranger out for coffee to discuss work. But I suppose he never had been able to say no to a pretty woman."

Isobel's eyebrows shot up, but before she could formulate a reply, Dr Clarkson reemerged, this time with a worn corduroy jacket in his arms as well as a set of keys.

"Are you ready?" he asked, not bothering waiting for an answer as he strode past. Lydia shot her an amused glance, and turned away as Isobel hurried after him.

* * *

When Isobel had woken up that morning, and she had thought about her work day, she didn't exactly picture herself sitting in the sunshine, at a corner café, with a cup of coffee in front of her and a handsome man sitting across from her.

Granted, she was still working but she had to admit that it was a nice change of pace. There was a slight breeze, making it the perfect weather to be sitting outside in. They were at a casual café just a few blocks down from his practice; one that he claimed had the only decent coffee in the whole neighborhood. It was the kind of place Isobel appreciated, seemingly coming straight out of a novel. It was the kind of place that the chairs never sat straight on the pavement, no matter which way you positioned them and the tables didn't have table cloths. There was a black board with today's specials had written on, and the only piece of decoration on the tables were the beaded salt and pepper grinders. It was a place that didn't feel it needed to be embellished, it was what it was, and that's exactly the kind of thing Isobel loved. Dr Clarkson was leaning back in his chair, his face tipped up towards the sun, his grey hair almost glowing as the light caught it. His eyes were closed and Isobel was using the opportunity to study him.

"If you keep staring, I'm going to get the wrong idea" he commented, straightening up and reaching for his cup of coffee, a mischievous glint in his eye. Isobel quickly averted her gaze and chose to focus on the rough wood of the table in front of her.

"Sorry, it's just been a hectic last few days." Dr Clarkson commented, a tired expression crossing his features. He reached up to rub his eyes, blinking to get them to readjust from the sun. "My partner has been on leave for a week and half, and I've had to cover for him. I don't mind, but it does tend to feel like you never see the sun, and it's nice to be not having a conversation that involves me asking you to cough. "

"Why not get a temp in?" Isobel asked, before reminding herself that she hadn't taken a day off work for the last two years because they were understaffed and she didn't trust someone else on her cases. Dr Clarkson sighed

"We thought about it" he admitted "but Ralf and I both feel that we know our patients on a personal level. We've always been their doctors, and to bring a stranger in almost seems like we're breaking their trust. Well, at least that was the thought process when he first decided to go on holiday. I have to tell you if he hadn't come back today, I would have asked the first available person to come in."

"I understand" Said Isobel, "My father was hardly ever available to leave his practice, and the few times that we managed to pull him away for the weekend he was usually pulled back by some emergency, so we would have to come rushing back. My sister and I used to get so upset. Then I went and married a surgeon and that was even worse."

"It's nice to not have to explain myself, most people act like it's a great crime for a doctor to want a day off. " Dr Clarkson commented, sipping his coffee before leaning back in his chair again "A lawyers hours and a surgeon's hours can't be easy on your marriage."

"It wasn't" Isobel replied lightly, not meeting his gaze "but we used to manage"

A soft 'ah' came from Dr Clarkson's direction, which Isobel ignored, choosing to rather reach into her bag and pull out her notepad and a pen. She couldn't find her favorite one, something that irritated her much more than it should. Swearing softly under breath, she pulled out one of the cheap give away ones that advertized their stationary supplier. She opened the notebook, and glanced up to find Dr. Clarkson smiling slightly. With a blush, she realized he had heard what she had muttered.

"So, Felicity Jones?" she said, her tone indicating that this meeting was now strictly professional. "How long was she a patient of yours?"

Dr Clarkson adjusted his features accordingly and straightened up again. He wiped his mouth with a napkin before answering.

"About ten years or so. She came to me shortly after she moved here, and due to her cancer she was one of my more regular clients. I try not to get too involved in my client's lives, so I can't tell you much about her personal life, but you do get to know a person quite well when you're sticking them with needles every second week."

"And are you also her fiancé's, Benjamin Kruger's, doctor as well?" barely looking up from where she was writing down her notes. She was distracted by the fact that it was not as smooth as her usual favorite, slowly down the speed in which she usually took notes.

"No. It is my understanding that he still went to his family doctor in the next town over. I only ever met him once, when she was first diagnosed. Even when she was going through chemo he wasn't there."

"Did that surprise you?" She asked, looking up.

"A little. Most cancer patients usually bring someone with them to the checkups, even if it's just a friend. But she was always alone. She would always catch the bus home. I used to feel sorry for her. "

"Other than that, did anything strike you as odd their relationship?" Isobel asked

Dr Clarkson was quiet for a few moments, causing Isobel to stop writing again and look up at him, hand still poised to write. Dr Clarkson cleared his throat, and moved his chair closer to the table.

"I think she was scared of him" he admitted heavily "I don't really have proof, but she always reminded me of one of those battered woman. If we were booking an appointment she would always have to check with him that it was a convenient time, even though he never went with her. She once admitted to me that she didn't want to go home, because she was going to be an hour late."

Isobel was frantically writing all this down, when her pen stopped working. She flipped the pages of her notebook closed and scribbled on the cover, trying to get it to work again.

"If she was being abused, why didn't you didn't tell the police?" she asked

"Because I had no proof. Some people are naturally reserved. Besides, if she was being abused it might not have been physical, and it's very hard for an ordinary GP to report that. We're simply not recognized, as we don't have a degree in psychology." He told her, reaching into his coat inner pocket and withdrawing a pen, which he handed to her before continuing "the only time I ever suspected physical abuse was when she came in with a broken arm, and couldn't really tell me how it broke. I asked about it, and she told me that he would never hurt her. I had no choice but to take her word for it."

"You say you don't have a degree in psychology, yet you state in your notes that she didn't seem to be suffering from depression. Why?"

"We're asked to keep an eye on depression. A lot of cancer patients go through a stage of depression, especially the more terminal cases. It's a well known side effect. They barely eat, they don't want to take their medication, and they get into a rut. Ms Jones always seemed bright and cheery when she came into the practice, always seemed to making plans. She was a painter, always seemed to be bursting with ideas for new pieces. A lot of people can put on a mask when suffer from depression. They put on a smile, but they don't look forward to life like she did."

Isobel, put the pen down and closed the notebook. She took a sip of her coffee, and swallowed slowly before putting the cup down, before folding her hands and leaning on her elbows, opting for a more personal approach.

"Mr. Kruger and his defense team are still claiming that she committed suicide." She said bluntly "as the police originally thought. However, her parents claim that their daughter would never take her own life. Of course, no parent wants to believe that their child is unhappy. Do you think it's possible that she could have ended her own life?"

"As a doctor you are not as close to your patients as their family members are. There is a lot of things they don't tell us, simply because it's things we don't need to know, so usually I would say that anything is possible, but with Felicity its different."

"And why is that?" Isobel asked. Dr Clarkson looked at her, his blue eyes burning into hers.

"Because, Mrs. Crawley, she was absolutely terrified of death."

Isobel was a bit taken aback by the certainty of his answer, but before she could answer they were interrupted by the shrill ring of her phone. With a start, she reached into her bag, and extracted her phone, frantically swiping to answer it.

"Isobel Crawley" she answered, without pausing to look at the caller id.

"Isobel, its Sybil here. I think you need to come back to the office, my grandmother is here and she wants to discuss the Kruger case. I'm sorry, but I don't think I can handle her on my own just yet."

Isobel resisted the urge to bang her head on the table, and sighed. She told Sybil to hold her off by offering her a cup of coffee, and that she'd be back in the next fifteen minutes tops.

"I'm so sorry Dr Clarkson, but I'm going to have to call this to an end now." Isobel said apologetically, waving the waitress over and signaling for the bill. "I would love to chat a bit more, especially if we can use you as a witness. Thank you for the loan of the pen" she said, handing it back. A twinkle came back into his eyes, as he took the pen back, their fingers brushing as he did so. They stared at each other for a few moments, until the waitress dropped the bill on their table. He casually slid the pen back into his coat pocket, and withdrew his wallet, adding a few notes to hers that were already there.

"It was a pleasure meeting you Dr Clarkson" Isobel said, offering her hand for him to shake "You've been exceptionally helpful."

"The pleasure was all mine, Mrs. Crawley" he answered with a smile. Isobel returned the smile, before feeling her phone vibrate with a text message in her bag. She hurried towards the pavement, and hailed a cab, pulling her phone out of her bag as she got in, and closing the door as the cab pulled away, not realizing that Richard Clarkson's gaze hadn't left her retreating figure.

* * *

 ** _And that's it for now. Next chapter we get to meet Violet! Please review and let me know your thoughts_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hello! I'm sorry in the delay for this chapter, I went on holiday to the UK and then had to remember how to do my job again. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter and let me know your thoughts at the end. Also, I've listed this as being both Richobel and Chelsie, as Chelsie is clearly going to feature quite a lot. Can't help myself.**_

* * *

"Violet, I wondered when we might be hearing from you." Isobel greeted her rival as she walked into her small conference room. She had hurried back from meeting Dr Clarkson, and was still wearing her coat. She had paused only to hand Ethel her notes to type up, and to enquire as to where Violet was. It was probably a silly question, as Isobel probably could have sniffed her out, just by the levels of anxiety that eminated from the people that surrounded her. Isobel's cellphone was still in her hand, and she probably looked a little untidy given her mad rush to get back to the office. As she wasn't going to court today, she hadn't dressed as formerly as she usually would, and her hair had a few untidy wisps escaping from its neat bun.

Violet Crawley raised her head and fixed Isobel with a measured look, her eyes lingering on everything that Isobel knew wasn't tidy about her appearance. Violet was seated at the head of the table, a power play as old as time, and was looking exceptionally out of place.

Violet was one of those people who had been born into money, and would always have money. She had never learnt how not to flaunt it, and was renound for dropping names of other wealthy people into ordinary conversations. She was dressed in a tailored deep purple business suit, complete with stockings and high heels, so different from the pale grey pant suit that Isobel herself was clad in, and the heavy necklace she wore was clearly far more valuable than just a costume piece. It was strange seeing her in their conference room, which was by no means shabby, but with its solid wooden table and mismatched chairs, was still not the glass creation that Violet's offices themselves hosted. Their office space had character; Isobel told herself, each scratch in that table, each coffee stain, had someone's story behind it. Blood sweat and tears that had gone into this place, years of dedication and hard work. Violet's office had always been cold and impersonal, from the large glass windows, right down to the Orchids that decorated her desk. They were revamped every five years, so everything was brand new. There was nothing that told a story.

Sybil, she was pleased to note, had provided Violet with a cup of tea, even going so far as to procure a decent cup and saucer, instead of their usual old mugs. The girl, however, was nowhere to be seen, and instead she found Charles Carson sitting next to Violet, wearing an amused expression on his face. He caught Isobel's eye and raised his eyebrows. His dark suit blended in with the chair he was seated on, and if it wasn't for his imposing frame, one wouldn't even know he was there. Often, he had come up behind her so quietly it made her jump.

"Isobel" Violet returned the greeting with a nod "I was surprised that we had not heard from you. I told Denker that there must be a problem with our internet again, as I had expected a return email stating that you would be happy to accept our offer."

In typical Violet fashion she had gotten right down to business, none of the fake niceties that many of her other fellow lawyers seemed to need to get past before getting to the point. It was one of the things Isobel had always liked about Violet. She could be cold and abrupt, but at least you always knew what you were getting. She resisted the urge to snort, as she took a pulled out a chair next to Carson, slid off her coat, and sat down. No doubt Violet had her poor secretary checking the email every five minutes, as well as everything else the woman had to do. Still, Gladys Denker, or the Rottweiler, as she was occasionally called, was almost as bad as her boss when it came down to it and after one or two run ins with her Isobel had stopped feeling too sorry for her.

"It was a lowball offer Violet and you know it." Isobel returned, with a touch of humor intentionally coloring her tone "You've offered better in the past, and we didn't except those. What on earth made you think that we would accept this one?"

"If you remember correctly, Isobel, I told you at the time that those offers were the best you were going to get. Taking into account the new evidence that has arisen I think its fair to say to you once again, that this will be the best you could hope to get."

"And what new evidence would that be?" Isobel asked, raising an eyebrow. "As I'm sure you're aware, we have to be aware of all the facts before we can be bullied into accepting an offer. "

Violet looked surprised, and Isobel was pleased to see she was unsteadied for a moment. It didn't last long though, it never did with Violet, before her features smoothed back into their business demeanor and she picked up a folder off the table in front of her. She withdrew a sheet of paper, and handed it to Isobel.

"I did ask Denker to send this through to you as well." She said, looking annoyed, handing another copy to Carson. "The woman must have forgotten. I will have a word with her as soon as I return to the office."

Isobel nodded as she read the page. Violet was a sharp lawyer, and was difficult to beat, but she was nothing if she wasn't fair. She wasn't the type of lawyer to pull a shady move, in the hope of surprising her opponents. This was another of the things Isobel had always liked about her, when it came down to Violet, you didn't have to worry too much about the grey. She was known to have said that if you can't beat them fairly, you haven't beaten them at all. Whether this was true, or merely a rumor that had gone around the many bars that the lawyers liked to frequent, Isobel wasn't sure, but she had to admit it fitted Violet perfectly.

Her assistant, on the other hand, could be exceptionally devious, and more often than not Isobel was glad that she was only a P.A instead of a lawyer. Documents tended to go missing for a few weeks, important papers weren't signed correctly, and information was not relayed correctly. Isobel would have lost many a case against Violet if it had not been for the sharp wits of her private investigator Thomas, and Ethel, who were by now trained to watch out for her scheming moves. She was smart in that she never did something illegal, but she could be a thorn in their side when it came to deadlines, and Violet had never seen reason to fire her. Partly Isobel wondered if Violet could remain so squeaky clean simply because her assistant wasn't. They matched one another perfectly and it was easy to see that despite all the complaints from Violet's side that she would be lost without her.

"As you can see" Violet said as Isobel read over the document "my client had an alibi for that night. Unfortunately, as you can also see, he was intoxicated at the time, but a drunk witness is still more believable to a jury than no alibi at all, hence we are still offering anything."

"Here you are Granny" Sybil said, opening the conference room door, and breezing in clutching a plate of biscuits, which she deposited in front of her Grandmother. Her grandmother bestowed a rare smile on her youngest granddaughter, and patted her hand.

"Sybil, please sit down. The defense has new evidence that they've just handed over." Isobel said, pulling out the chair next to her. Sybil walked over, and smoothed her skirt before sitting, reaching for the paper as she did so. "Sybil will be taking second chair on this." Isobel explained, as they waited for her to read through it.

"I see." Violet replied, a steely glint coming into her eye "you put my own granddaughter across from me on her first case, and they say I'm the unfeeling one. Carson, I thought you were second chair?"

"If I waited until there was a case you were not involved in, Violet, the poor girl would still be waiting by the time you retire." Isobel said smoothly before Carson could reply

"Don't give me that nonsense Isobel, we both know that I'm not the only firm in this city. Just last week alone you wrapped up a case against Carlise and Swire, as well as one against Talbot."

"I'm not sure I appreciate what you're implying Violent" Isobel said, her tone hardening.

"I'm sure you don't Isobel." Violent returned "but if you think for one moment that I'm going to go gently, you haven't been paying-"

"Ladies" Charles said in a warning tone, the deepness of his voice bouncing around the room causing them both to fall silent, and rather glare daggers at one another. "let us not resort to kindergarten tactics shall we? To answer your question Violet, I am merely in an advisory position for this case, and I must say it's nice to be able to go home on time for a change"

Both woman turned and glared at him until Sybil spoke.

"The man is a recluse and now suddenly he had an alibi?" She asked incredulously, once she had reached the end of the document "Why didn't he mention an alibi sooner?"

"As my client has stated there, they were both intoxicated. It is my understanding that the night his fiancé died is still a bit hazy, and bits and pieces are slowly coming back. The combination of alcohol and grief can do that to a person, or so I'm told."

"Yes well, it's not like we expect you to know firsthand about matters of the heart" Isobel muttered, earning herself a warning glare from Carson, and a sarcastic snort from Violet

"If he can forget a whole person accompanying him, who's to say, he hasn't forgotten murdering her as well?" Sybil asked, a touch of sarcasm seeping into her voice. A steely glint had come into her eye, and Isobel was almost impressed despite the fact that it reminded her forcibly of Violet "I'm sorry Granny but I don't buy it."

"Well" Violet said, closing her folder with a snap "I think we're done here. Because I'm in a lenient mood, I'll give you until the end of the week to accept the offer. After that, we go to court, and from where I'm standing, it isn't looking too good for you."

She and Carson stood up at the same time, and he reached to open the door for her. She turned as she got to the doorway, an odd look on her face, one that Isobel didn't recognize.

"Sybil darling, I do hope you'll be coming to your mother's charity gala next week Saturday? There are many young associates going, and I'd love for you to meet some of them. Carson, you'll be there won't you?"

Without waiting for an answer she glided past him, and with a bit of a jolt Isobel realized that the look on Violet's face had been one of pride. Sybil, on the other hand had gone a bit pink in the face, and was studiously not meeting anyone's gaze.

"I hate to say this, ladies" Carson said, closing the door behind Violet and returning to his seat "but she's right. If she has an alibi that pretty much cans our case. Unless we can prove him to be a liar then it doesn't matter how much evidence we have against him."

"Well how do we go about proving that he's a liar?" Sybil asked "apart from going to trial and cross examining him?"

"We could deposition him I suppose," Carson mused, steepling his fingers and leaning his chin on them "but if we can't trip him up then we will have wasted a lot of time and resources that could have been put to one of our other cases. As much as I want to pursue this, we don't have a lot of cause, and we are stretched a bit thin at the moment. Thomas has resorted to typing out case notes, and I haven't seen Moseley outside of the file room in weeks."

"So we just give up?" Sybil asked in a horrified tone, leaning back in her chair "But he's guilty!"

Carson adopted a fatherly look on his face and said softly "Sybil, it doesn't always work out that way. Good doesn't always win, and even then there's a possibility that he is actually innocent."

Sybil looked torn between wanting to cry and wanting to punch something, and Isobel wasn't too sure which one she would choose. She was relieved when Sybil opted to fold her arms and glare at the table instead.

"Why isn't Violet filing for a dismissal?" Isobel asked suddenly. Both Carson and Sybil looked up at her with interest, so she continued "if there is an alibi, a witness, telling us that he didn't do it, then why hasn't the case been thrown out? Why is she still offering us a guilty confession?"

"Because they were both drunk?" Carson offered "I suppose if we can discredit the witness before trial her case gets weaker so she might as well make an offer and count it as a win?"

"But if Violet thinks there's a way we can discredit him then surely that's what we should do?" Isobel asked, her fingers tapping lightly on the table

"So do you want us to ask for a deposition?" Carson asked, raising an eyebrow. Sybil straightened up, the fire in her eyes slowly returning. Isobel was glad to see the hope coming back. It was never easy giving up a case, but even worse when it was your first. "Sybil and I can prepare some questions."

"No" Isobel said slowly, still mulling it over in her head. "Get Thomas onto it. He needs the exercise if he's resorted to typing up case notes. He hates being stuck behind a desk."

Carson nodded and stood up, his large frame filling the room.

"I'll do that" he promised "now, if that's all, I do have lunch plans with my wife. I believe she ran it past you Isobel?"

"She did" Isobel said, tilting her head in acknowledgement and smiling slightly. Her best friend had asked her a few weeks ago if they could duck out for a few hours to celebrate the anniversary of her health being given the all clear, and Isobel had only been too happy to agree. She knew Elsie still had paperwork to catch up on, but she had covered for her on numerous occasions while Mathew was going through his teenage years, and when she had lost Reginald, and giving her a few hours off to celebrate being cancer free was a very small thank you. Carson left the conference room, leaving the door open, and Isobel watched as he called Thomas over and handed him the piece of paper that Violet had left. They chatted for a few moments, before Thomas went back to his computer and Carson made his way to his wife's office. Elsie appeared in the doorway a few moments later, bag already in hand, and together they left the office hand in hand, Elsie laughing at something he had said as they stepped out of the door. Without realizing it, a sappy expression had replaced her usual one, and Isobel sighed happily. It had taken those two years to find each other, the first of which they had spent at one another's throats constantly. It had taken many interventions on her part, and many mornings where the atmosphere was so thick you could cut it with a knife before they had learned to tolerate one another.

Things had eventually settled, and once they got over their dislike of one another, they had made a formidable team in the court room. Isobel hadn't realized how close they had become, until one day she had sat in on a meeting with one of their clients, someone who happened to be a friend of Isobel's, and realized that they didn't need words to communicate.

She had first realized that her friend had fallen in love with him when he left for a private firm across town. They still saw each other, met up for coffee occasionally, but Isobel could see how much Elsie had missed him. She was still a great lawyer, but there had been something missing. Of course, Elsie had denied it when she was confronted, claiming that she was tired from taking on all his cases as well as her own, but things didn't really change even after another lawyer took a lot of his cases off her hands.

Thankfully he had returned, and Elsie slowly became the person she used to know. Isobel had started watching closely, and while Elsie had never and would never need a man in her life, no one but Isobel realized how much she relied on Charles.

Carson was harder to read though. It wasn't until a few years later that Isobel realized that he loved Elsie as much as she loved him. Elsie had suddenly started needing a lot of time off work, and when she was there she seemed distracted, and not in a good way. Even more oddly, she began pushing away her friends, especially Carson and Isobel. It wasn't until one day Isobel caught her crying in the loo that she finally confronted her, and demanded to know what was going on. The reply had sent her reeling. Elsie had discovered a lump in her breast, and due to a lab mix-up the results were taking longer than expected. Elsie was terrified, but refused to let anyone see it including Charles. After Isobel had gotten over the shock, she began to watch the two of them more carefully. Elsie was withdrawn, and Charles as clearly worried about her. She watched as he went to the ends of the earth to make her smile, including bringing out his old juggling balls, and then grew more and more desperate as time went on and nothing seemed to change.

Isobel only found out a few years later, that he had eventually bullied Elsie's cousin, Beryl, into telling him what the problem was, but she watched as it slowly ate him away.

Thankfully, the results finally came back and Elsie was given the all clear. Somehow Beryl had found a way to tell him, and for the first time in her life Isobel had walked past his office only to hear him humming with a smile on his face. It had warmed her heart, and she had kept a careful eye on them ever since. She watched them make plans to invest in a house, watched as Elsie confessed that she didn't have the funds. At first, she had thought that was the end of it for them. They seemingly kept their distance from one another for the next few days. She nearly fell out of her chair in shock when Elsie had phoned her first thing in on Christmas morning to announce that they were engaged. There had been mutters around the office that they were rushing things, after all how long had they actually been dating? But Isobel knew that they were perfect in their timing. After all, they had been running in circles around each other for decades.

"Have you considered dating again?"

Isobel jumped, and turned to face Sybil again who was watching her shrewdly

"What?" she asked stupidly "No, why?"

Sybil shrugged, and smoothed the hem of her skirt, not meeting Isobel's eye.

"You seem kinda lonely sometimes, that's all. " She said "You watch couples a lot. I don't think you realize you're doing it"

"You watch widowed old lawyers, what does that say about you?" Isobel asked with a wry grin, "I'm just happy for them. They've been through a lot."

"It says that I'm smart. " Sybil shot back, smirking slightly "and yeah, I am too, but are you sure you're not lonely? You work alone, live alone, and you spend every Christmas with Mathew, alone in his flat."

"Lonely! " Scoffed Isobel "with this place to manage? If anything I long for a bit of peace and quiet."

Sybil laughed "I suppose that's true" she admitted "But that's not what I meant. You often come in early and leave late, it's like you have nothing else to do, nothing else to worry about. There's more to life than work Isobel."

"Says the woman who spent the night at the office researching a case." Isobel replied teasingly "Besides, I have Mathew"

"I'm an associate, it's part of my job description not to have a life." Sybil answered testily "and Mathew has his own life. Don't you wish you had someone to, I don't know, take you dancing?"

"Dancing!"

"Or to the movies?"

"Elsie, Beryl and myself go to the movies once a month." Isobel answered, feigning ignorance "Last time we saw the new Meryl one, I thought Beryl was going to die laughing."

Sybil's expression changed to one of frustration, a frown appeared and she bit her lip, causing Isobel to laugh.

"I'm fine Sybil, really." She assured her, reaching over the table to pat her hand "When you're young it's important to have someone, but when you've had that love, and I did with Reg, then you know it can't easily be replaced, and you don't think about it so often . You think more of the memories, and of the person he once was. He was the one I loved, the one I married, and no one will ever replace him."

"Are you saying that you will never date someone again because you were once married?" Sybil demanded, the frown on her face becoming more and more apparent, and her blue eyes darkening. "because that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Of course that's not what I'm saying" Isobel said patiently "I'm saying that I'm not looking for someone to ask on a date. Should it happen, I would consider it. In fact it has happened, and I've been on one or two, but frankly they were a waste of my time."

"But-"

"Sybil that's enough" Isobel said, a little sharply. She didn't want to be rude, and she knew that Sybil was only trying to help, but there were limits and the conversation was not entirely professional. Isobel often had to remind herself that while she wanted to be everyone's friend, she was also their employer and therefore had to act accordingly.

Sybil still looked frustrated, but recognizing Isobel's tone she decided to drop the subject. She opened her notebook and glanced down at her notes. Her neat hand writing covered majority of the book, making Isobel sigh. She herself had always had bad hand writing, and she had given up trying to be neat in her own notes. How Ethel managed to decipher them, she wasn't sure.

"How did it go with Dr. Clarkson?" Sybil asked instead "I don't suppose he can discredit Granny's alibi?"

"It went rather well actually" Isobel replied, picking up her glasses, and rubbing her eyes before sliding them on. It was hard to believe that not too long ago she was sitting in a café in the sun, drinking a cup of coffee, and now she was here, having gone through a session with Violet, and being interrogated by Sybil on her love life. It was almost polar opposite. "And no, obviously he can't. But he can discredit the suicide claim though. It seems like he got to know her quite well during the years he knew her, and according to him there's no way she would have done that. I think with his testimony, and that of her parents, we can probably get that idea thrown out completely."

"So we're calling him as a character witness, more than an expert witness?" Sybil clarified, jotting down notes, which Isobel sincerely hoped she wasn't taking anywhere near Violet. Not that Violet would read them just to win a case, but anyone else might, and Violet tended to have a lot of lawyers around at all times.

"At the moment, yes. Violet will blow him out the water otherwise, as he doesn't have the qualifications to make him an expert. I asked Ethel to type up my notes for me as I came in, I'll ask her to email you a copy as soon as she's finished and you can tell me what you think."

"That would be wonderful thank you " Sybil said with a smile. She then turned her attention back to her own notes "I didn't find much at the dog park, except for a cute spaniel that Carson said would ruin his car, and wouldn't let me take home. The only useful thing though, was a client form Mr Kruger filled in when he signed up for those training classes I mentioned? So I guess that at least proves that he knew where the place was." She passed the form over to Isobel, who glanced at it. It was signed and dated, and had his I.D number, which was all Isobel needed.

"This is great thank you." She said, handing the copy back to Sybil. "Good job."

Sybil flushed slightly, warming Isobel's heart. It was good to know that there were people like Sybil waiting in the wings for when she decided to retire. Not that she had any plans to currently, but it was still good to know.

"I suppose I better get some of my paperwork under control" Isobel said with a sigh as she stood up. "I have a funny feeling that it's going to be another long day. Do me a favor, and add Dr. Clarkson to the witness list. Violet will want to interrogate him, so set up a deposition for sometime next week. Not before though, I want a bit of time to prepare the poor man. Also, you better submit that document into evidence as well. Although I am tempted to hold it back a few days, given the way she sprung that alibi on us."

Sybil nodded, and made another note in her book. Isobel draped her coat over her arm and left the room, leaving the young woman to work in peace. Once back in her own office she took a moment to go over everything that had happened that morning. Her case, which had seemed pretty tight yesterday had changed in the course of just a few hours, and now she was the one clutching at straws.

She wasn't sure how she was going to get around the alibi that Violet had suddenly procured, but something in her gut told her not to give up just yet. She had learnt a long time ago to trust her gut, as it was more often right than it was wrong. Her case wasn't completely ruined as yet. The alibi, and the defendant were supposedly both drunk, and would therefore be easy to discredit on the stand.

The real question was, if they weren't guilty, then who was? At least Dr. Clarkson would be able to tell them one thing, and that was that it was not a suicide, meaning that there was a guilty party out there, and while it may not be Mr Kruger, it did mean that at some point Isobel would hopefully be putting someone away.

With a sigh she powered up her laptop, only to find that she had forgotten to shut it down completely before she left. As the screen brightened, she was greeted with the photo of Dr Clarkson and his staff. She let her gaze linger on him briefly, taking in the intelligent blue eyes and the slight smile.

She had to admit to herself, that if she were thinking of dating again, she wouldn't mind going for someone like Dr. Clarkson. He had been funny, and kind, and intelligent. She had also gotten the impression that he was watching her with interest, which was something that never went amiss.

Immediately she scolded herself. While there had been no mention of him being married in the brief history on him that she had read, there was no need to assume that he wasn't, and if he wasn't he was probably one of those types who had a long term girlfriend whom he had just never gotten around to marrying.

"Or he's a player, who has a different girl every week" she muttered to herself, her eyes lingering on his face again, before reminding herself that even if he was it had nothing to do with her, and closing the page. Sybil was clearly rubbing off on her, she hadn't even contemplated her love life in the last few years, let alone months, and now here she was deciding that if she had to choose someone, it would be a witness on her case.

A very nice doctor, who had given her his pen, and agreed to see her even though he had just finished work, but a witness all the same, who was currently crucial to her case, and Isobel prided herself on being professional.

However, the case wouldn't go on forever would it? And what would stop her from perusing him afterwards? Not that she had ever actively perused anyone, she had always been the one being perused, but this was a woman's world after, and if she wanted to, she jolly well could. Well the answer would be, nothing at all. Of course, Violet would have something to say about it, but then Violet had something to say about everything.

He did have such nice eyes after all.

"Oh stop it Isobel" she chided herself crossly, opening the file of one of her other cases with an angry tap on her keyboard. "nice eyes indeed!"

* * *

 _ **Please leave a review if you're so inclined! xx**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi all, so sorry for the delay in this. I struggled with this one a lot. I don't wanna rush things, and I don't wana drag things out either. Ugh. Anyway, please enjoy!**

* * *

Isobel was having a bad day. It was one of those days where nothing was going right, and the slightest thing sent her into a rage. She could feel it, simmering beneath her skin, ready to break out and breath fire at whatever woke it up. She was angry, and miserable, and it was all so pathetic because she had no just reason to be angry or miserable. It had started with her milk being sour for her morning coffee, forcing her to drink it black, something she hated. She had decided that she would treat herself to a cappuccino on the way into work, but the pair of tights she had squeezed herself into had somehow developed a ladder, and by the time she had found another pair she was already running late. She had foolishly hoped that things would improve once she got to the office. She could have Ethel make her a cup of coffee, and she could lose herself in paperwork for the rest of the morning. Her hopes were dashed when she had gotten to the office to find that there was a routine power failure that someone had forgotten to mention to her, causing her usually warmly lit office to become dark and dreary.

The sunny hot weather of the last few weeks had finally broken with a massive thunder storm which had since eased off into a continuous drizzle, turning the world grey and making it impossible to stand outside for more than a minute without getting soaked. Her hair was now plastered to the side of her head from the dash from her car into the building, and she knew that once it had dried it would be curling into a frizzy mess, and her shoes were now splattered in mud.

Isobel was the first to admit that she wasn't a nice person when she was in a bad mood. She had already snapped at Elsie, who had merely raised an eyebrow and turned her back on her, glared at Thomas for hogging the copier and when Joe Mosley had laughed a little too loudly for her taste she had slammed her door shut in the hope that everyone would take the hint and leave her alone for the rest of the day. It had been that precise moment that a client had phoned up, and proceeded to whine for the next half hour about her court date, the opposing council, and her vile soon to be ex husband. When Isobel had finally gotten rid of her, she was just beginning to lose herself in reading a motion that Charles Carson had left on her desk, when the phone had rung again. She had thrown the file down with a huff, and had answered tersely, trying to prevent herself from being short with which ever poor client was on the other end.

It had turned out to be Mathew, who was phoning for his weekly chat with his mother. He usually phoned over the weekend, when Isobel wasn't so busy and he didn't have to worry about his own schedule, but he was away on a skiing trip this weekend with a few friends and their girlfriends, so the call had to be made a little bit earlier. It wasn't that they had a set schedule or anything, he often phoned her during the week as well, but she could tell by his tone that this was going to be a marathon session.

Isobel sighed, and picked up the folder again because while she loved her son with all her heart she really wasn't in the mood to listen to him debate his life decisions with her. She had already told him her thoughts on the matter, and he needed to decide where and what he was doing for himself now. Isobel lent back in her chair, the folder remaining closed on her knee, and watched the rain roll down the window, mentally guessing which drop would reach the bottom first. This worked, until two drops merged half way through the race, and she turned away with an angry puff and chose to doodle on her note pad instead, mming and ahhing when Mathew paused for breath.

"...thing is that I'm not sure Lavina is the girl for me you know?" Mathew was saying "I mean, she's wonderful, sweet, kind and funny. But I sometimes feel that she's only with me because it looks good to be seen with me because I'm your son, distantly related to the Grantham family. There's something missing."

"Are you sure you should be going on a skiing trip with her then?" Isobel asked, as her door opened, and Ethel poked her head around the door.

"Dr. Clarkson is here" She said, once Isobel had looked up with a frown "I know he's a little bit early, but Violet hasn't arrived yet so I thought you might want to see him before she gets here. Give him a few pointers and such"

Isobel's frown deepened in confusion and she glanced down at her diary. Sure enough, Ethel had penciled in a deposition with Violet and Dr Clarkson for today. She remembered glancing at it before she left the night before, thinking that she should make some notes on what might be asked. But she had completely forgotten about it. She resisted the urge to bang her head on her desk until it bled or jump out of the window. The very last thing she needed today was to be locked in a room with Violet Crawley for at least an hour, listening to the pointed remarks and snooty comments. Ethel was still waiting at the door so Isobel covered the speaker of her phone and mouthed for her to send Dr Clarkson in. She turned her attention back to the voice on the line, ignoring the door as it closed behind Ethel.

"Mother? Hello?" Mathews voice sounded in her ear sounded more than a little aggravated. He had obviously asked her a question, and had now clicked that his mother wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying.

"Sorry darling, Ethel was just telling me something. I'm listening." She apologized, closing her notepad and sitting up in her chair.

"I was asking you about Lavinia" Mathew repeated patiently "do you think she's only with me because of who I am rather than because of, well, who I am?"

"I don't know Mathew, I quite liked her when I met her. But if you've having these doubts isn't it possible that you're the one giving her the wrong idea? Do you love her, or are you just too afraid to be by yourself? I'm sorry to be so harsh, but I don't think you should be going away together if you're not in love with her."

Her door opened again and Ethel showed Dr. Clarkson into the room. He looked different to when she had first met him, the casual slacks and golf shirt had been replaced by dark formal trousers, and button down shirt and blazer. His hair was damp from the rain, but it suited him. It made him look stylish rather than drenched. Isobel briefly wondered how he accomplished it. He raised his hand in a small wave, smiling slightly instead of saying hello when he saw that she was on the phone, before crossing the room slowly to lean against the window while waiting for her to finish her call.

"The point is Mathew, do you honestly think that you're doing the right thing or not?" she asked gently, surreptitiously studying the doctors face as he watched the rain outside.

"Probably not" Mathew admitted "but I'm hoping that this trip will help me make my mind up. I know that sounds mad. "

Isobel was inclined to agree with him. As far she was concerned, if one wasn't sure then you shouldn't be going away together.. She had watched many friends over the years make the same mistake, and it only ever ended up with broken hearts and bitterness. But then, who was she to judge? Perhaps her ideas were woefully old fashioned.

"Well it's your life" She conceded, earning herself a laugh from Mathew

"You only ever say that when you don't approve" he pointed out good naturedly

"What nonsense!" she protested, glancing up at Dr. Clarkson "Listen Mathew, my next appointment has arrived, so I have to go. Enjoy your trip, and I hope you find your answers."

She and Mathew exchanged a few more words before he rang off, and she placed her phone back into its receiver with a fond smile on her face.

"Sorry about that" she said to Dr. Clarkson, gesturing for him to take the seat opposite her. "We don't get to see each other that often, thanks to both our schedules, so we have to make do with phones."

Dr Clarkson stood up from where he was leaning, and sunk into the chair opposite her, crossing his legs and leaning back with his hands steepled in front of him

"No problem" he said, his warm voice washing over her, his accent more noticeable than ever. "family?"

"My son" she said with a nod, leaning her elbows onto her desk "He's having girl trouble. They tell that it ends when the teens come to an end. They lied."

"Every boy will always ask his mother for advice" Dr. Clarkson said with a smile "no matter how old he is, and I'm sure you gave him the best advice you possess"

Isobel snorted gently and shook her head "Actually, I told him it was his life and he must figure it out for himself"

Dr Clarkson laughed, a deep belly laugh that seemed to fill the room, the mood changing instantly to something more cheerful. Isobel forgot momentarily about the day she was having, and allowed herself to enjoy his merriment.

"Yes, I seem to recall my mother telling me that as well." He said with a nod

"And was she right?" Isobel asked curiously

"I don't know" he admitted with a shrug. "I never married her. Apparently I was too much of a mothers boy, and that she didn't really want someone who couldn't even stand up to their own mother for her. Looking back, I suppose they were both right"

"Oh goodness, I hope I'm never the reason Mathew breaks up with one of his girlfriends" Isobel said, a horrified expression crossing her face "I quite like being the lovable potential mother in law"

"Are mothers in law ever really lovable, potential or not?" Dr. Clarkson asked teasingly "the few that I ever met were quite terrifying"

"You're really not making me feel any better you know" Isobel pointed out . Dr. Clarkson grinned at, his eyes twinkling as he studied her worried expression

"My apologies" he said quietly "perhaps we should move on to another subject? Why exactly am I here Mrs Crawley?"

Isobel straightened in her chair. She wasn't sure what it was, but she wanted to keep talking to him. She wanted to know more about the woman he had almost married, how everything had changed when she left , how much it haunted him now, did he regret it? Why had he never found someone else? But she had no business knowing these things. She was a lawyer, he was a witness and this was strictly business. She didn't know what had gotten into her today.

"Well" she said, picking up a pen from her desk and twirling it around her long fingers. "as you know, we're calling you as a character witness. The opposing council just wants to ask you a couple of questions, trying to rattle you or to prove you're not a reliable witness. It saves them time in court."

"So its just me, and some shark of lawyer in a room together?" Dr Clarkon asked, raising his eyebrows. "Sorry" he amended at her raised eyebrows "no offence intended. When working in the medical profession you develop a dislike for Lawyers pretty quickly as you're always being threatened with them."

"None taken" Isobel waved his apology away "and no, my team will be with you. Myself, Mr Carson, and Miss Crawley."

"And the person that'll be questioning me? Do you know them?" he asked

"Violet Crawley, yes I do." Isobel answered, trying to keep the bite out of her voice "She and I have gone head to head many times, but she's fair. Just remember, at this point if you don't want to answer anything you don't have to. It's basically so they can all prepare for trial."

Dr. Clarkson nodded slowly.

"Don't be nervous" Isobel said gently, ducking her head slightly so he was forced to meet her eyes "You're not on trial, you're just here to give information."

"I know that" Dr. Clarkson said "yet it still feels a lot like I'm being hauled into the principal's office. I may have to take something before the actual trial."

Isobel looked up sharply at that comment, only to find that his gaze was twinkling with veiled amusement.

"One of the perks of the job?" she asked in a teasing tone, that she only realized sounded a bit flirtatious after she said it.

"Very much so" he replied, a cheeky grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, causing his moustache to twitch.

"Violet Crawley is here" Ethel called, popping her head around the door again. "and she's in a hurry. She also wants to know whether we're shutting down, as there's no power. She asks if you need a loan to pay the power bill. "

Isobel sighed, her smile fading. The anger that had been brewing all day raised its ugly head again.

"For the love of god, it's a routine power outage! That woman!" Isobel mimed strangling someone with her hands, and then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was not supposed to behave like this in front of people, but Violet Crawley had a way of making her blood boil like no one else could. She stood and straightened her jacket, before methodically placing her glasses on top of her head and picking up the case file and her notebook. Dr. Clarkson stood as well, wisely not saying anything about her display of annoyance and waited for her to lead the way.

"It would appear the principle is ready to see you now" Isobel said in a resigned tone, opening her office door and walking out.

"I can't wait" Dr Clarkson replied mildly, following close behind.

* * *

"Oh for goodness sake Violet this is ridiculous!" Isobel's voice rang out for the hundredth time in the last two hours. They were seated in the conference room across the table from one another, both wearing identical expressions of annoyance and frustration. Dr Clarkson was seated next to Isobel, with Sybil on his other side, and Ethel was on the far end of the table taking notes. Carson had been held up in court, and had phoned to say he wouldn't make it. Isobel was sure he had purposefully delayed court, hoping to avoid being in the same room as the two of them. She was also sure that if she had been given the choice, she might have done exactly the same thing.

"What's ridiculous is that you keep interrupting the questioning." Violet spat back, her eyes flashing as she glared at her opponent. She had brought Gladys Denker with her to take notes, who was enjoying the proceedings a little more than she should. "Perhaps you'll see where this is going if you piped down for a few moments instead of deafening us all with your shrill interruptions!"

"My shrill interruptions are necessary as you persist in asking this man questions that have nothing to do with this case."

"My asking if he ever received psychiatric evaluation is completely necessary to this case, as it shows he is of stable mind."

"And I would agree with you" Isobel said, trying to sound patient and failing "but Dr. Clarkson has not given us a single reason to believe he is not of stable mind. Forgive me Violet, but it appears to me that you are making a mountain out of a mole hill at worst, and fishing at best."

"I'm not the one going off about the question Isobel, you are. Now if you wish, we will make note of your objection but for now, I would like Dr. Clarkson to answer the question."

"Dr. Clarkson, you are by no means required to answer that question." Isobel reminded him sharply. Sybil's eyes were getting wider and wider as she watched to two of them go at it like alley cats, and Isobel resisted the urge to tell her to close her mouth. She huffed, and continued to glare at Violet.

"I'm sorry" said Dr Clarkson from his seat next to Isobel, shaking his head as though trying to get water out of his ears "But after that tirade I've forgotten what the question was. Would you mind repeating it?"

"Certainly." Violet replied, a sly smirk pulling at her lips. Isobel had the sudden childish urge to stick her tongue out at her. "Have you ever had to under-go mandatory psychiatric evaluation?"

"I have" he said calmly, "a very close friend of mine died in a car crash about fifteen years ago. We had been friends for years, and I sunk into a bit of depression. My license got suspended after I broke down while examining a patient, and I had to be evaluated and assessed before they would renew my license. I did therapy for six months, as was given the all clear. I haven't been asked for another evaluation."

Violet nodded and made a note on her pad. Isobel narrowed her eyes, why would any self respecting lawyer take notes in a purple pen? What was wrong with ordinary black?

"When was the last time you saw the victim?" Violet asked, moving on with her questioning

"It must have been about two months ago now." Dr Clarkson said thoughtfully. "I was on leave when her last appointment was, so my partner met with her then. We spoke before her appointment and again after. She was one of my patients that I was quite close with, so he updated me as soon as he was able to. I've also had a look at his notes from that session."

"But you yourself said that it was two months ago that you saw her?" Violet pressed

"That's correct" Dr Clarkson said, nodding.

"So how sure are you that she wasn't capable of committing suicide?"

"Very. She never once had a depressive thought to my knowledge, and I have known her a long time. She hasn't had a very easy life, and as much as people try and hide it, there's always a clue their true thoughts. The woman I knew was always cheerful, and positive. I cannot believe that her outlook on life would have changed so quickly."

"Are you currently single Dr. Clarkson?" Violet asked, changing topics so fast that even Isobel felt a little bit confused, and forgot to protest.

"I am" he answered, frowning a little "but I don't see why that should be a cause for concern in this case"

"And the victim was a very attractive woman am I correct?" Violet asked, ignoring the latter part of his answer

"You could say that" Dr Clarkson agreed carefully

"And you've mentioned several times that you had a close bond with her."

"I'm sorry, is there a question there?" Isobel asked coldly

"No, merely an observation" Violet replied "Isn't it possible that you might have had feelings for this woman Dr. Clarkson?" she asked "that your relationship wasn't strictly patient and doctor?"

"We were friends at best" he replied stonily "I certainly never had feelings for her of any sort. Only concern for her, as her doctor. Besides, she had a partner as you well know, and in all honesty she wasn't my type."

"Oh really?" Violet asked with an innocent expression on her face "So what is your type then?"

"Objection!" Isobel said loudly "really Violet, you're really pushing the boundaries today. That has absolutely no relevance on this case."

"Of course it doesn't" Violet replied rolling her eyes "but how else am I supposed to determine if he's telling the truth or not?"

"Oh that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever-"

"Blondes" Dr. Clarkson interrupted sharply "I've always had a thing for blondes. And woman who knew their own minds. I'm afraid that as my patient had mousy brown hair, and was completely dominated by your client, she really wasn't my type at all."

"Anything else?" Violet asked, ignoring the filthy look Isobel was shooting her way

"There are lots of things that I find attractive" Dr Clarkson replied, glancing at his watch "but I'm afraid I have a practice to run in the next half hour, so I have to leave. It was a pleasure meeting you" He reached over to shake Violet's hand, before nodding at Isobel and her team and leaving the room. There was a brief silence, as Isobel reached over and turned the camera off with an angry jab.

"You" she said to Violet "Are really something else."

"Wow" Sybil breathed, resting back on her chair with a stunned expression "I've always been told that it was scary when you two went head to head, but that was intense. The poor man must be terrified."

Isobel ignored her, and focused on not smacking the satisfied smirk off of Violet's face. Instead she stood, and followed Dr Clarkson out of the room, slamming the door as she went, leaving Sybil and Ethel to pack the equipment and paperwork. She rounded the corner quickly, finding Dr. Clarkson standing next to the elevator doors, staring down at his phone.

"I'm so sorry" Isobel said, catching up to him as fast as she could "she's not usually that….persistent"

Dr. Clarkson looked up from where he was typing into his phone. He glanced over Isobel's shoulder to the corner where the conference room was.

"Well I can certainly see why she's so good at her job." He commented wryly

"I'm sorry" Isobel said again, choosing to stare at her mud splattered feet rather than meet his gaze

"Don't be." He chuckled "I honestly found it all quite entertaining. You never struck me as the type of person who would be so fiery."

Isobel looked up sharply, and opened her mouth to protest when he cut her off

"However, I do actually have a practice to run. I suppose I'll be hearing from you with the court date details?"

"You will" Isobel confirmed "we have a starting date set for about two weeks time, so we'll just let you know what date we'll be needing you."

"Perfect" Dr Clarkson nodded, offering his hand for her to shake. "Then I'll see you then" His hand was warm and his handshake firm. Isobel shook hands with many different people daily, but this one seemed to warm her from the inside out. As he released her hand and turned to go the lights in the office flickered back to life, and the office computers all lit up with a hum.

He looked around the room with interest, noticing how much more welcoming the room seemed now.

"Amazing what a little light can do" he remarked "perhaps we should redo the deposition. She might seem warm and fluffy now"

Isobel grinned as the sudden image of Violet wrapped in a onesie asking questions filled her mind. The elevator behind them dinged as the doors opened just as a thunderous looking Charles Carson appeared at the top of the stairs. He glared at the elevators, whose doors were now wide open and beckoning before striding past. Dr. Clarkson and Isobel and headed towards his wife's office. The elevator doors started to close again, and Dr. Clarkson quickly wedged a foot between them.

"Somehow I doubt it though" he remarked with a smirk, and turned to go. Isobel waved as the doors slid closed behind him.

Her bad mood finally lifting a little bit, Isobel headed for the office kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee, and by the look on Carson's face, Elsie would be needing one as well. It had become their ritual to meet in the kitchen when they'd had a trying experience.

Plus, it allowed her to avoid Violet on her way out.

She was just spooning sugar into the two cups, the kettle having boiled and the aroma of coffee now surrounding her, when Elsie walked in, looking a little frazzled. She stopped when she noticed Isobel standing there, but smiled when Isobel silently handed her a cup.

"You read my mind" she said gratefully, having accepted the cup, and was now stretching to where she and Isobel had a hidden supply of short bread. She pried open the tin and pulled out two pieces before stashing it away again.

"I saw Charles' face when he came in a few minutes ago." Isobel admitted "a bad day in court? I assume the elevator not working wouldn't have caused that much of a storm"

"Well it certainly didn't help, but no it wasn't just the elevator. Grigg seemed to pull another shady move." Elsie told her, dunking her shortbread into the coffee with a sigh "Charles was caught unawares. So I suppose he'll be spending most of the night at the office tonight, trying to figure out a way back. Honestly Izzie, sometimes I wonder why we do this to ourselves." There was a pause as they both sipped their coffee, and enjoyed the feeling of the hot liquid spreading through them "At least you seem to be feeling better" she added, cocking her head in Isobel's direction.

"Coffee tends to do that to one" Isobel remarked drily, raising her cup in a mock salute "I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier"

"It's alright" Elsie said "I know how you get when working on a case with Violet. The old bat is enough to drive a saint insane"

"It wasn't that, I'd actually forgotten she was coming today" Isobel admitted, leaning against the counter "I just got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, and felt irritable. It wasn't fair on me to take it out on you though, or Joe and Thomas. "

"Ah" Elsie sighed, taking another sip of coffee "the mean reds"

"The what?"

"Nothing" Elsie said, waving a hand as she quickly drained her coffee cup "it's a quote from a movie. Listen, Beryl is in town in three weeks time. Why don't we all have a girls night out? We'll invite Cora as well, I think she could use a break from being the perfect wife, and I know my husband is going to be wrapped up in this case for a good while yet."

"I'll be bang in the middle of trial for this case" Isobel remarked, mentally reviewing her calendar

"So you'll be needing a break as well" Elsie commented, rinsing her cup and shrugging "She's only here for a weekend, so we'll have some fun on a Saturday night, and you'll be refreshed for court again on Monday morning. Think on it."

She smiled as she placed her cup on the drying rack, and left, leaving Isobel clutching a rapidly cooling cup, and half a biscuit. Perhaps she would go, she hadn't been out for ages, and Beryl was always a laugh. She was in a rut, working five or six days a week, and spending the rest of her time at home with her cat or doing the odd errand for Mathew.

She needed to let lose a little bit and remember she was a person and not just a working machine.

Besides, she was probably going to need alcohol after spending a week in trail with Violet.

With a snort she quickly finished her own cup of coffee, and headed back to her office, pausing only to quickly apologize to Joe and Thomas. Yes, she would go. And on Saturday morning she might treat herself to a bit of shopping as well. She needed something to wear for a night out after all.

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 **Please review if you have a moment**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Hi everyone! Before you get on with this chapter I just want to clear a few things up._**

 ** _Its late and I can't be bothered checking again for typos. I'll go over it again tomorrow, and replace the chapter once officially edited._**

 ** _Second, for this story I do need to focus on what happens inside the court room (as we see here with Officer Willis). There won't be a lot, but Dr. Clarkson's testimony is vital to the story and it would look a bit odd just doing his. Having said that, all my legal knowledge comes from marathons of the Good Wife and Suits. Please forgive me if anything isn't quite up to speed. Also, well done if you get the Good Wife reference. The whole story is based off a scene from the Good Wife, so those who have watched it probably know exactly where this is going._**

 ** _Okay, enough of my rambling. Please enjoy!_**

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There was something about the court house that Isobel had always found reassuring. Perhaps it was the balance of the manic world outside, and the peacefulness of inside. With people running late for court, lawyers sizing each other up, people on phones, the distinct difference between those who had passed the bar and those who hadn't was always apparent outside. It was never quiet, always a rush, always a bustle. The coffee machines worked tirelessly, there was always the sound of a briefcase being opened, and laughter when wins were celebrated as people exited the court rooms. It wasn't a good place to think, but it could be a good place to clear your mind.

Then you stepped into the court room, and it all fell away. No one was rushing, everyone was quiet and people stopped to listen to what was really going on. The dark wood reminded one of a library, tall and imposing, subtly asking you to behave in a respectable manner. It was almost like a church; with the rows of hard wooden seats and the soft carpets. In a word, inside a court room was calming, which was nice for some and terrifying for others. People had manners here, they behaved as they should behave all the time, and should they not, there was a stern looking bailiff and an ever sterner judge, staring down at you, who had been given the right to rule with an iron rod.

Isobel used to feel at home in doctor's offices, and still did, the same way one did when returning to a childhood home. But this was her domain, the home that she had worked for, slaved for, devoted her life to. She felt comfortable here, she knew the rules, and no one could suddenly change them. She knew where to sit, how to behave and when it was her turn to speak.

Isobel was dressed in red. It had always been her power colour, and this was a case she was going to need every inch of sway she could get. She had never before gone ahead with a case that was so up in the air. Usually she could give you a good idea of what the outcome would be, but today she had no idea. She was nervous, she could feel it quietly bubbling in the pit of her stomach, and she swallowed hard.

Still, she didn't allow her uncertainty to rattle her, and she certainly didn't allow it to show. She was seated at the prosecution table, her heels neatly tucked underneath her, her posture straight and her arms folded neatly in front of her. Sybil was sitting next to her, her large eyes taking in every detail of the room she should be spending the next couple of weeks in. The case had already been pushed back for two weeks, due to a family drama causing their assigned judge to take a leave of absence. Violet had pushed for a new judge, but she was turned down. Isobel was secretly glad. It had given her another two weeks to work on her case, although in the end she had learnt nothing new. Thomas had been trying to dig up something, he had barely been in the office at all, but each day he had come up empty handed. He was starting to get dark circles under his eyes, and Isobel was on the verge of telling him just to drop it. This case was taking a lot out of the firm, especially in running two big cases all at once, with Isobel at the helm of the Kruger case and Charles and Elsie in court over a massive tax scam. Their associates and paralegals had been divided into two, forcing everyone to take on more work than usual. Isobel was tired, she had been up late reviewing her notes and strategizing, and when she did eventually fall into bed her dreams were plagued by Violet, and for some unknown reason, Dr Clarkson. Eventually she had given up, and had made herself a strong pot of coffee and dozed in front of the television.

With a sigh she opened her files, and ran her fingers across the pages. Her mother might not have approved, but Isobel was born to be in a court room. Even though she was tired and nervous there was still that small fission of excitement that ran through her. She was moody enough to argue the hell out of this case, and tired enough to stop caring about what Violet said or did.

Violet was across the aisle from her, dressed head to toe in black, her gold jewelry standing out more than ever. She too had an associate with her, a young man who looked slightly terrified. Isobel glanced at Sybil and was pleased to note that she looked calm and collected. She felt a bit of smugness creep in, and quickly squashed it down.

Violet, however, also had the suspect sitting at her table. He was a tall man, with long fingers and a handsome expression. He was dressed in a well tailored dark suit, complete with a silver tie. He was staring at the table, seemingly lost in thought. His eyes, Isobel noted, were the coldest blue.

It was funny how there were so many shades of colours in the world when it came to people's eyes. Sybil and Elsie also had blue eyes, yet Sybil's were the colour of a lake, deep and innocent. Unmarred as yet by the horrors of the world. Elsie's were warm and mischievous, like the sky on a perfect day, unless she was angry when they turned into blue flames. But this man only reminded Isobel of ice. She shivered slightly but continued to study him.

Violet looked up and caught Isobel staring. She nodded in her direction, a sign of the many years, many times, the two of them had gone head to head. She knew once the judge came in, they would be determined to shred one another, but here, before they could get going, they were friends.

Well, perhaps not friends, but they respected one another, and could put other matters aside.

"All rise for the honourable Judge Gardner." The bailiff announced, his voice cutting through the quiet.

There was a scraping noise as they all pushed their chairs back and stood, Sybil nervously straightening her jacket as she did so. The judge entered, an elderly man, with a large nose and clever eyes. He was clad in the usual court uniform, a large black gown, and he carried a folder as he climbed up the stairs to his podium.

"Sit" he said, waving a hand at them all as he took his own seat and flipped open the file. "Before we begin, I take it there are no motions I have to hear?"

Isobel looked across at Violet, fully expecting her to file a motion to dismiss. She remained seated, a pen in her hand, already looking slightly bored.

"No?" Judge Gardner said, looking up, his quick eyes darting around the court room. The room was fairly empty today, a few concerned family members from both halves, and a journalist from the local newspaper. While this was a big case, it was not a high profile case, and therefore it did not attract the attention of the outside world. When Isobel had first been made partner she was second chair on a rape case, involving a high up politician. The gallery had been packed, and Isobel remembered having to escort the victim through the media outside while they hurled questions and accusations at her. It had been one of the worst things she had ever had to do. She had repeated the act a few years later, with a different celebrity and victim and she had hated it just as much. But, by then she knew what to expect and was more prepared to deal with the pressure. Still, she much preferred it when she only had to worry about what was going to happen inside the courtroom "Good." Judge Gardner continued "In that case, Bailiff, please escort the jury in."

A few moments later a line of twelve people filed in from a side door, and took their seats on the opposite end of the court room to where Isobel was seated. She knew them, not well, but she and Violet had gone through jury selection a week ago. There was the young mother of two, a business man, a pensioner, and a college student. It had been a long and tedious few days, the battle to find twelve people that both of them agreed would be fair to both parties. They were each given three strikes to have a member of the jury removed, and Isobel had been forced to use one. Violet had used two.

Isobel still wasn't sure about juror number 7, she had had no good reason to have her excused from jury duty, but there was something there that didn't sit right with her. She wondered if maybe she should have used another of her strikes to remove her, but then reminded herself that it was too late now.

Once they had settled down, the judge informed them all what the suspect was being charged with, and a few basic guidelines before turning to Isobel.

"Please start with opening arguments."

Isobel stood, and moved around the table to stand in front of the judge. Instead of facing him though, she faced the jury.

"Good morning" she started, nodding in their direction. "We all know of someone who has committed suicide, right? You hear it about it almost every day. In my opinion, it is one of the worst ways to die. It is an even worse way to lose someone you love. You cannot imagine anyone making light of it can you?" She paused for a few moments before walking towards them slowly

"So imagine that someone did. Imagine someone tried to use that pain, to get away with a terrible crime. Imagine that he had the nerve to look you in the eye, and ask you to remember all the pain that comes with it, and let him go scot free even though he was the cause of that pain."

Isobel leant against their counter, and watched them for a few moments before turning her back on them and walking away again

"Felicity Jones was a strong woman. No matter what happens in this room, I know you will agree with me on that. She fought cancer, and was winning the battle. She made a name for herself in her career. The people she loved describe her as a wonderful person. Even her doctor was astounded by her sunny outlook on life. So it makes no sense that she would get up one morning and decide to kill herself. Yet that is exactly what the defense will tell you. They will tell you that this woman, who was so loved by all, randomly decided to hang herself in a park across town from where she lived. They will tell you that her fiancé, the man in front of you, is innocent, and is as broken hearted as the rest of her family is. This, in my opinion, is a lie. However, the only thing I can do is place the facts in front of you, and let you decide for yourselves. But I ask you to remember this. Is he truly heartbroken? Or is it a guilty conscience? I ask you not to think of Felicity Jones, but rather all the pain left behind by her death. Her death that I believe was caused by this man."

Isobel straightened up again, and with a glare at Violet she walked away, and rejoined Sybil at the table, who was studying the jury. Sybil leant forward and drew a simple tick on the page in front of her, and Isobel drew a smiley face in return.

"Defense?" Judge Gardner said, looking towards Violet. She took a moment to seemingly gather her thoughts, before standing and placing her hand on her client's shoulder.

"The prosecution is right" she started "he killed her. But not in the way you think. We have all done things that affect the people around us. I myself have made my opponent's life a hell in the past, said things that I could be held accountable for should she decide that it's all too much. I'm sure we have all said or done something that had affected someone else's lives, whether we meant to or not. My client loved this woman. They were going to get married, and start a family. But he did things that he was not proud of. They argued, they fought, they hurt each other. There is no denying that. They even broke up a few times. But he loved her, and to stand here and accuse him murdering the love of his life in cold blood should be a crime in itself. He is guilty. Guilty of adding to her troubles and driving her to taking her own life. But, my client, is not a murderer as the prosecution would have you believe. My client is innocent of that."

Violet squeezed her clients shoulder before returning to her seat. Judge Gardner made a few notes in his file, before addressing Isobel

"Prosecution, please call your first witness?"

"The prosecution calls Officer Willis to the stand" Isobel announced. They waited for the stout man to walk to the witness box, and were all silent as he was sworn in, repeating the vows solemnly with his hand on a bible. Officer Willis was often called into the witness box, and therefore looked completely at home. He caught Isobel's eye and smiled slightly, before bestowing the same favour on Violet. He knew them both exceptionally well after he was the one that had to arrest John Bates. It was one of the few cases Violet and Isobel had ever worked together on as a team, and the poor man had been questioned vigorously by both of them.

Once John had been let off, they all remained on speaking terms. Isobel carefully lead him through his job description and titles in her first few questions before returning to the matter at hand.

"Officer Willis." She said standing in front of him "it was you who first questioned if this was a suicide, am I correct?"

"That is correct."

"Could you explain the jury, in your own words, what made you suspect that things were not what they seemed?" Isobel asked

"Certainly" he replied, straightening up "Well, to be honest at first it was a feeling. It's sort of like a sixth sense you develop when you've been in the job as long as I have"

"Objection!" Violet cried, standing up

"On what grounds?" Isobel demanded to know, whirling around with her arms folded in front of her

"On the grounds of sheer lunacy" Violet retorted "Your honour, you cannot expect the jury to make a fair judgment on the feelings of people. We're here to examine facts!"

"Perhaps if Officer Willis was permitted to finish answering the question, we would have gotten to those facts you wish to examine" Isobel replied icily

"Sheer Lunacy is not ground for an objection I'm afraid" Judge Gardner sighed "but we better be hearing some facts soon, because I don't appreciate my time being wasted. Officer Willis, you may continue. "

"Well, the feeling prompted me to look a little harder." He replied "I wasn't happy with the position of the body, so I asked for a more thorough investigation. When we spoke to her family we were given permission to do a post mortem, something we don't usually do if we're certain it's a suicide. It was then that we discovered that she had not died from strangulation as we had originally thought, but rather from a brain bleed allegedly caused by a blunt object. It was in her hairline, hence we didn't notice the bruising immediately, and as the skull hadn't been shattered there was no obvious trauma. We were told that the position of where this brain bleed was extremely rare, that someone else might have simply walked away with a headache."

"So you decided it was murder on the presence of a bruise?" Isobel asked raising an eyebrow.

"No" Officer Willis stated "As I said that was just the beginning."

"So what happened next?"

"We applied for her medical records to be released. It was then than we discovered that she was actually allergic to dogs, yet there had been no sign of her having a reaction before her death. It was possible that she simply didn't meet any dogs on that particular day, but it added to suspension as why would she kill herself in a place that might make her final moments even worse than normal?"

"Why indeed" Isobel remarked "explain to us how you came to suspect Mr. Kruger here."

"We didn't at first; he seemed distraught at her death. It was only when we started piecing the timeline together that we realized that he hadn't noticed she was missing for forty eight hours."

"Did he give you an explanation as to why he never looked for her?"

"He said that she often went missing for a few days. Opted out."

"But you didn't buy it?"

"Well no" Officer Willis admitted "When we spoke to the neighbors they told us that she rarely left their home, except on Tuesdays for her treatment at the hospital. When she was found her cell phone was with her. It had a half full battery, but she hadn't phoned or messaged him for five days, yet when we look in the past they spoke to each other at least once a day. He phoned her during his lunch break. My initial thought was that they'd had an argument, and just weren't speaking. But he had said he had spoken to her a few hours before she died. Yet when we asked around she couldn't have seen him since the day before."

"That doesn't definitely implement him though" Isobel pointed out.

"No it doesn't. It wasn't until we got the DNA results back, three weeks later, that we felt that we could arrest him. The DNA from under her fingernails matched that of his. We then looked a little harder and found that she had multiple charges against him, all of which had been dropped. It is my belief that they were arguing and it got out of hand."

"Thank you" Isobel said, before turning to address Violet "your witness."

"Officer Willis, isn't it true that the DNA could have gotten under her fingernails at any point?" Violet asked in a business like tone.

"I suppose so"

"Especially as you say they were charges of abuse that had been dropped?"

"It's possible" he conceded

Sybil leant forward again and scrawled on the legal pad in front of her

 _What is she playing at?_

 _A charge of abuse is a lot less damaging that a murder charge_ Isobel wrote in reply.

"Officer Willis, isn't it true that you are due for a promotion?" Violet asked innocently

"It is" he replied, shifting slightly in his seat.

"So isn't it possible that this has become a bit of a man hunt? After all, a murder looks a lot better than a few break ins right?"

"Objection!" Isobel said in an outraged tone, standing up so quickly that she banged her thigh on the desk

"Withdrawn" Violet said lazily, turning back to her own desk "nothing further."

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Isobel shouldered open the court room door and strode out into the bustle, barely looking where she was going, and not bothering to wait for Sybil who was practically running to keep up with her. They were taking a half hour break for lunch, and Isobel could feel her blood pressure steadily rising. After office Willis, they had heard the testimony of one of their neighbors, and from the medical examiner, and Violet was dancing very close to the line with her questions in cross examination.

Isobel understood, she was just as desperate to win this case, and both of them were on even footing. She was used to Violet and her scheming ways, but there was so much at risk, and she was slowly starting to panic and question herself.

She pushed her way through a couple more lawyers, and headed outside, relishing the cold air that filled her lungs. She sunk down on a bench outside and slowly rubbed her temples.

"I'll get some lunch" Sybil said a little breathlessly, heading over to the small deli across the road. Isobel wasn't hungry, but she didn't have the energy to tell the poor girl that, so she merely nodded in reply and watched as she crossed the road.

Isobel had never been one to use her lunch break during court to plan her case. She had spent the last few months doing that, and she refused to let it consume her to that extent. Instead she reached into her brief case and pulled out her phone. She pressed the power button, and waited while it started up. Immediately messages started coming through, she scrolled through them, deleting the one or two that were advertising. There were two from Elsie, one from Beryl, and one from an unknown number. She opened the ones from Elsie first, which told her that they were making progress with their case, and confirming that Beryl would definitely be in town this weekend. The one from Beryl told her the same thing, and told her they were trying out a new pub that had recently opened, that was apparently not too expensive, but had great food. Isobel replied to both messages, letting them know that she was looking forward to it, and telling Elsie that her case was still up in the air. Elsie replied almost immediately, asking if Violet was up to her old tricks again, and together they spent the next ten minutes abusing her over text. Elsie eventually had to go, and Isobel scrolled down to the text she hadn't yet opened. She opened it, not really paying attention, fully expecting it to be another chain message.

 ** _Hi Mrs Crawley, please call me urgently. Rgds Richard Clarkson._**

Isobel frowned, and hurriedly selected the option to call him back. She waited as the phone rang, and was pleasantly surprised when he answered the phone himself.

"Hello? Richard speaking."

She blinked a few moments, before clearing her throat

"Hi Dr. Clarkson, its Isobel Crawley here, returning your call? Sorry, I thought I was going to get through to Lydia."

There was a pause on the other end of the line before he answered with a laugh

"Oh no, this is my private line. I'm actually not working this morning. Anyway," he continued "I know they say you're not supposed to take work home, but I know I sometimes do, and I was cleaning out my filing system this morning when I came across a report that my previous partner in crime did. She unfortunately moved to France a few years ago, and by the look on this date I'd say it was done just as Ms Jones became a client of ours."

Isobel ignored the questions her mind was screaming at her to ask, such as exactly who this partner in crime was, and was she merely someone he worked with. Instead she reached into her bag and hauled out her notepad and a pen.

She always packed extra pens for when she was in court, it was one of her many little rituals, but she still missed her favorite pen. A brief flash back came to mind of him handing her his one, and Isobel felt the tips of her finger tips warming up.

"Okay, and what did this report say?" She asked as professionally as possible.

"Not much to be honest" he replied "It was before the cancer and everything, but it says here that there were signs of abuse. Bruised arms, face, and a fractured finger. I don't know if it will help you, but I thought I better give you a call, and you weren't in the office so Ethel gave me your number. I can fax it through if you like?"

"At the moment I need all the help that I can get." Isobel laughed without humor.

"Then I'll have Lydia send it through as soon as I get to work this afternoon" He promised.

"Thanks" Isobel said, before rattling off the fax number. He wished her well for the remainder of the day, and they rang off. Isobel wrote down a few notes, before sending a text to Ethel to email it through as soon as she got the report. She then gazed across the street, to where she could see Sybil battling her way through the lunchtime queues.

The idea of a report of abuse had cheered her p slightly, and she was willing to admit how sick that made her sound. But it was just another nail to prove that he was not the heart broken lamb that Violet was claiming he was.

Suddenly an idea struck her, so fast it was like the sun had just come out from behind a cloud. She quickly unlocked her phone, and hit the redial button. While the phone rang Isobel jiggled her leg up and down impatiently, her heel beating a fast taboo on the pavement in front of her.

"Hello? Richard Speaking"

"Richard, did you say face?" Isobel asked, not even bothering to say hello, or noticing that she used his first name. There was a silence on the other end of the line

"I did" he said slowly.

"I don't suppose it says where on the face?" Isobel asked.

"Hang on" the was a slight rummaging sound on the other end, and Isobel imagined him pulling the page out of where he had put it so he would remember to take it with him when he left for work.

"It says here that just above the right eye, spreading towards the temple." He answered eventually.

"Richard? I need that faxed to me"

"Isobel" he replied in an amused tone, and with a jolt she realized that she had been addressing him by his first name. "I believe I already said that I would fax it to you."

Isobel felt herself flush and dropped her head

"I'm sorry" she said "of course you did. I'm so sorry. Thank you so much Dr. Clarkson. Enjoy the rest of your day"

Without even waiting for him to respond she ended the call and tucked the phone into her pocket before placing her cool hands on her burning cheeks. What on earth was wrong with her, addressing someone she barely knew by their first name, and behaving in a ridiculous manner. It was a medical report, not a confession.

Oh, what must he think of her? She wouldn't be at all surprised if he simply refused to show up to testify on the grounds that she was a mad woman. Isobel really wouldn't blame him.

What normal person got so excited over a report of abuse? It was macabre! And it still didn't even guarantee her a win.

 _Of course, that might not be the only reason you're getting so excited_ a voice in her head said, that sounded suspiciously like Sybil.

"Oh shut up" Isobel muttered aloud at the voice, and it responded with a mad cackle that sounded like Elsie when she had too much to drink.

"Are you alright?" Sybil asked. Isobel blinked and looked up to find her walking towards where Isobel was sitting, with a tray of coffee in one hand and two toasted sandwiches in the other.

"Just hot" Isobel replied "oh good, lunch. I'm starving aren't you?"

She barely listened as Sybil handed her the food, explaining to Isobel what she had ordered, and why before sitting down and starting to eat. Isobel followed her lead, and mulled things over in her head, barely noticing as the hot tangy mayonnaise filled her mouth. She swallowed, took a sip of coffee, before turning to Sybil and saying

"I think that you should do some of the questioning. We won't be finished by the end of this week, so maybe next week?"

Sybil started at her with a look of excitement blazing through her eyes. She swallowed quickly

"Are you serious?" she asked

"Yes." Isobel said with a nod "someone Violet won't give you too much hassle with. We'll see how it goes."

 _Besides_ , Isobel added in her head _I clearly can't be trusted with this case_.

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 ** _Oh Isobel, how right you are!_**

 ** _We'll be seeing a lot more of Dr. Clarkson in the next chapter, trust me! Please review if you feel so inclined. I love knowing what you're all thinking!_**


	6. Chapter 6

**I literally have no excuse for the delay in this one. Its been sitting half written on my PC for weeks. I have deleted more than I've written. I'm so sorry. Anyway, on with the story! Please enjoy!**

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Isobel had made many mistakes in her life. She had messed on carpets, dropped things, accidently offended people, lost things, said things she didn't mean, broken things. Really the list was endless. She had spent years trying to be perfect, studied hard, worked hard, and raised her son the right way. In a way, she had had it all. A successful marriage, a good career, a wonderful son. Yet for a brief moment she had slipped, and now everything was shaky, and she didn't like shaky. Shaky wasn't safe. She didn't know how to navigate shaky.

It was all Elsie's fault. Or possibly Beryl's. Both of them. If she hadn't been out with them, none of this would have happened. If they hadn't insisted on having just one more drink to end the evening none of this would have happened. She was never going partying with them ever again.

But Isobel knew that as much as she tried to shift the blame onto someone else, the fault and therefore the guilt, lay entirely with her. Granted, she may have been a little tipsy, but she was still fully in control of her actions. She had acted recklessly, and now she would have to work twice as hard to fix it.

She curled up in a ball, tucking her duvet cover up over her head. She was wrapped in her most comfortable pajamas, her hair lose around her shoulders and the taste of toothpaste still lingering in her mouth. Her bedside light shone through the duvet, illuminating her neatly trimmed and painted nails, and creating a warm glow. She was glad that she had stopped wearing her wedding ring. It just would have made all of this worse. Perhaps if she had been wearing it, this wouldn't have happened.

How was she going to face him in court tomorrow? How could she look him in the eye and question him, knowing that he tasted like wine and butterscotch? But how could she not? How could she forget him?

It was stupid, so stupid, going back and forth in her head with the would haves and could haves. She had been doing it all day, and as a result she was starting to get a headache. Beryl would tell her its due to tension, but sometimes Isobel put it down to the fact that she over thought everything.

It was done, she had done it, and it was glorious. Yes, she regretted it, but if she was honest with herself, she would probably do it again, and screw what everyone else, such as Sybil and Violet thought.

A cold feeling of dread washed over her. Sybil was absolutely going to kill her, and Violet was going to have a field day. She would be thrown off the case for sure. Possibly even be disbarred.

With a huff, she rolled over. She hadn't legally done anything wrong, there was no way she was going to be disbarred. Sure, she may have stepped into the dark grey zone, but it was fixable. She could just excuse herself from the questioning of the remainder of the witnesses, and work in the side lines. She would simply ask Sybil or Carson to take over the questioning for tomorrow, and that would be the end of that. And she would never ever have to see him again.

Not that he would want to see her, after the mess she had made of things. But that would have to be something that Isobel would have to live with. She ached inside when she thought of the look on his face when she ran away from him. Her heart broke a little when she thought about it. She had acted selfishly, and had hurt others around her. How would she ever live this down?

Glumly, she reached up and turned off her bedside light, plunging the room into darkness. Then she closed her eyes, and willed herself to go to sleep, trying to ignore the flash backs of the night before that her mind was suddenly flooded with, as she drifted off to sleep.

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It was late, that Isobel knew, and she should be heading home soon. Another wave of laughter went up at their table, as Elsie and Beryl continued to throw insults and snide remarks at one another. They had been riding one another all night, with Beryl implying that Elsie had turned into a boring house wife, and Elsie retaliating by teasing Beryl about one of her regular customers, a man who spent hours in her restaurant chatting to her when they were quiet. Elsie made yet another risqué comment, and Beryl resorted to ignoring her and swigging her drink. What most people didn't know about Elsie was that her tongue became fairly naughty after a few glasses of wine, and the calm and icy lawyer was long forgotten. Her blues eyes were sparkling, her auburn hair was in loose curls framing her face, and her shirt was a little lower than what she usually wore in the office. Isobel wished that some of their interns could see Elsie like this, her relaxed side. Perhaps then they wouldn't refer to her as the dragon. Sh3 wondered what the stiff and formal Charles Carson thought of this side of his wife. Isobel couldn't imagine him approving of her behavior when she let her hair down. Then again, listening to the comments Elsie had been making all night, perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps it was one of the many reasons why he married her.

"I don't know how I'm going to take you back to Charles like this" Isobel piped up, leaning back in her chair with an indulgent smile on her face. "I'm not sure he'll know how to handle this silver tongued woman that has replaced his wife."

"He'll cope" Elsie replied, a naughty smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "He's seen me drunk many times….more times than I care to admit. It's when Beryl gets drunk that he really gets scared. I wonder if Mr. Mason agrees?"

"Elsie Hughes!" Beryl exclaimed, glaring at her friend "I am never taking you drinking again."

"No, you're not." She agreed, flinging her hair over her shoulder. "But you will be taking Elsie _Carson_ drinking many times more, I promise." Elsie corrected her.

"What did I say?" Beryl asked, looking confused as Cora and Isobel laughed at her mistake

"Hughes" Isobel supplied

"Oh" Beryl responded, a mock look of glumness on her face "I'm apparently drunk"

Isobel surreptitiously checked her phone for the time. It was half past eleven, which might not have been too late for some but Isobel hadn't been out this late for ages. She was starting to feel it, especially as she had been on the go since five, starting her morning by going into work to try and catch up on actually running the business and not just being a lawyer. Their accounts were a bit of a mess, and some of their minor clients needed a bit of attention as well. She had spent the morning on the phone, catching up on paperwork, and before she knew it the clock was going on for three and she had skipped lunch without even realizing it.

Elsie, who was sitting across from her, also looked tired, but happy. She had also put in a few hours at work this morning, sorting out her interns, staffing issues and ordering supplies.

Beryl, however was still going strong, getting louder and louder the more she drank. She had taken the weekend off, leaving her restaurant in the hands of her young protégé and didn't have to worry about work until Monday evening. She had organized a fun evening for them starting out by going to a movie, followed by then spending an hour or so window shopping before heading to a small pub near their offices that had recently opened for a drink and some dinner. There they were joined by Cora, who had been unable to make the movie, but who, according to Elsie, needed a night out. Isobel hadn't asked for details, but one look at Cora's miserable face had told her that Elsie wasn't exaggerating.

Still, with the three of them it was impossible to stay miserable for long. She hadn't said much over the course of the evening, but she was at least now laughing with them and cracking jokes, many of which featured Violet as the pun, which had cheered Isobel up no end.

Her case with Violet was still ongoing, with Isobel calling witnesses and Violet doing her best to discredit them. The judge was starting to look tired as well, with their constant bickering and bashing of heads, so it didn't really come as a surprise when he had adjourned court early on Friday afternoon and had disappeared, muttering something about a migraine. Thankfully, they were almost finished with prosecution's side of the argument, marking the halfway point, and then they would reverse roles and it would be Violet's turn. Isobel wasn't sure if she was going to survive this trial is Violet was going to be this brutal.

Thankfully, Elsie and Charles were almost finished with their case, which meant that soon Charles would be able to assist a little more with the Kruger case, and if not then at least Elsie would be able to take over the running of the firm a little more, which would help Isobel greatly. They had been so stretched recently that Isobel was surprised that someone hadn't had a nervous break down yet. Moseley had certainly looked strained when she had last seen him. Granted, that could have been because she had just walked in from court, her mind still full of Violet's ringing voice.

'Stop thinking about work!" Beryl said suddenly, pointing an accusatory finger at Isobel "I can see by the murderous look on your face that you're thinking about Violet"

"I am so sick of hearing about work. It's all Robert ever talks about." Cora sighed quietly before finishing her wine with a large gulp. Isobel took a moment to study her, she looked sad and tired again, despite the laughter that was surrounding her. Cora caught her staring and smiled slightly, her expression changing into a politely pleasant one that Isobel herself often wore.

'Well at least my case is almost finished" Elsie said, stretching like a cat. "Just closing arguments on Monday, and then we wait for the verdict."

"One would think that as you spend your life arguing that you wouldn't have time to argue with me." Beryl remarked innocently, swirling the dregs of her drink around her glass

"Because who else do I practice on?" Elsie asked immediatel, raising an eyebrow

"You could practice on whoever Isobel practices on."

"Yes, my cat is a very good listener."

"That is just sad." Beryl told her, a pitying look on her face. She finished the last of her drink, and stared at the empty glass with a bemused expression.

"How is your case going?" Elsie asked, ignoring Beryl. Isobel shrugged in response

"It's okay I guess. We've gone through all the medical evidence, and the police report. On Monday we start with the character witnesses. Then we trudge through Violet's side."

"You're arguing against my mother in law?" Cora asked, sitting up "poor you. "

"Isobel has had many cases against Violet." Elsie told her, a wicked smile crossing her face "She's practically a professional at it."

"Any pointers?" Cora asked.

"Drink like a fish on the weekends" Isobel and Elsie replied simultaneously, both quoting a joke that had around since they were in law school together.

"I thought we weren't talking about work?" Beryl pointed out, pushing her empty glass into the middle of the table "Else I may have to start discussing cake fillings in great detail."

"I'm actually thinking that its time I headed home" Isobel said, holding up her phone to display the time "It's late, and as much as I would like to sleep in tomorrow morning my cat is demanding."

Beryl squinted slightly to read the screen. Her eyesight had always been bad and now she had had a little too much to drink which wasn't helping. She sighed, and leant back in her chair, a defeated look on her face.

'Alright, I suppose you're right." She conceded "but we have time for one last drink? I never see you guys, and I'm having fun."

With a sigh, Isobel agreed to have one more drink, and looked around for their waiter. Being a Saturday night the place was packed, with more people filtering in from outdoors, and the waitresses and waiters were practically run off their feet. She waved in vain, before deciding to just go to the bar herself. Elsie volunteered to give her a hand, and together they made their way carefully from the back of the pub where their table was, to the bar, where they waited patiently for the barman to finish serving the person before them. The barman turned his attention towards her, wiping down the bar in front of him as Elsie ordered their drinks. They waited while he carefully poured two glasses of wine, a gin and tonic, and some bright pink thing that Beryl seemed to be drinking. Someone had turned on the music, and Elsie was dancing slightly next to her. With a smile, he slid the glasses across the bar to them and Isobel grabbed the first two glasses to carry back to their table.

She weaved her way back to her table, with Elsie following closely behind her. There was a cold gust of wind as the door to the pub opened once more, and a person cut in front of Isobel, causing the person who had just walked in to slam straight into her.

She stumbled, a small shriek escaping as she struggled to maintain her balance. Her glass tipped over, spilling most of her drink onto herself, and onto the floor. With a bit of a wobble she managed to right Cora's drink before the same fate befell it.

'Watch it!' She cried indignantly, unable to do anything about the white wine that was now soaking into her pale cream blouse as her hands were still full. Elsie luckily had managed to avoid walking into the back of her, and Isobel was thankful that at least she didn't have Beryl's pink drink poured down her back as well.

"I'm so sorry" said a familiar voice, and a warm hand steadied her elbow. With a start Isobel looked up to find herself staring into the eyes of Richard Clarkson, who looked exceptionally apologetic. He grabbed a napkin from the nearest table, and started blotting her sleeve

"It wasn't your fault" Isobel replied automatically,

"Yes it was" he answered, raising his voice as the song changed and a cheer went up from a few of the younger generation in the pub "I should have been watching where I was going, and now you're covered in wine, and you don't have a drink. Please allow me to buy you another one?"

"Uhm" said Isobel stupidly

"Excellent" he replied, "why don't you direct me to your table, and I'll meet you there?"

"Isobel, why don't you give this man Beryl's drink, and he can follow me to our table, while you go and clean up. Its all down your chest and I don't think you want us to start blotting you in the middle of a pub. " Elsie suggested, leaning around her to nod at Dr Clarkson.

"Excellent suggestion!" Dr Clarkson said, glancing at Elsie as he relieved Isobel of the two glasses "she's Scottish as well? Then we're all ready friends!"

Elsie laughed and beckoned for him to follow her. Together they walked off, already chatting, leaving Isobel to turn around and head towards the ladies room. Once there, and after doing what she could about the wine stain on her blouse, she took a moment to stare sternly at herself in the mirror and took a deep breath to steady herself. The stall behind her opened and a tall woman stepped out, who took one look at her and smiled

"Oh honey, if only it was that easy" she said turning the tap on to wash her hands. "But it's so difficult when they're attractive" Isobel smiled politely at her, and left the room. She carefully made her way to their table, only to find Dr Clarkson was sitting in her chair, listening to one of Beryl's stories with a polite smile on his face. In front of him sat a sweating glass of white wine, and he was holding a glass of beer.

Isobel didn't comment, but merely grabbed a chair from the table next door and pulled it into the spot next to him. Without a word he slid her glass of wine in front of her and she smiled her thanks. Beryl didn't even notice, and carried on talking, and together they sat there in silence sipping their drinks.

"So, Dr Clarkson" she said after Beryl had finally finished her story "what brings you here tonight?"

"I went to see a patient of mine in hospital" he answered, a little sadly "she has a bad heart, and I don't think she's going to be with us much longer."

"Oh, I'm sorry" Elsie said before Isobel could answer. "That must be hard for you."

"It can be" he agreed "you spend all those years in medical school thinking you'll be able to help people, but it never really prepares you for when you can't."

"My father used to say the same thing." Isobel said "it was the one part about his job that he hated. My sister never understood why he got so attached, but some of those people he had known for years."

"This has got depressing" Beryl said with a sigh "and Isobel is right. It's getting late. We should get going. Daisy will be wondering why she hasn't heard from me."

"I'm sure Daisy is enjoying the peace and quiet."Elsie muttered "She probably runs that restaurant better than you do."

"You own a restaurant?" Dr Clarkson asked with interest, cutting Beryl of from replying. While they discussed cooking and businesses Isobel and Elsie waved a waiter over for the bill.

Much to their surprise the bill was delivered fairly promptly and after a few minutes of good natured squabbling over who was paying for what, they all gathered up their belongings and headed out to the parking lot, Beryl and Elsie with their arms flung around one another, Cora right behind them with Isobel and Dr Clarkson bringing up the rear.

"What do you think will be easier?" Elsie asked, pulling out her phone "getting two cabs, or one of us taking the long way home?"

"I don't mind." Isobel shrugged "get one."

"Why are you splitting up?" Dr Clarkson asked, a frown on his face as he searched for his car keys.

"Well, Isobel lives in a flat that way" said Beryl pointing up the street "and Elsie, and therefore I live that way" she said pointing in the opposite direction "and Cora lives sort of that way" pointing slightly to the right of where she had been pointing "so we can drop her off on the way"

"Beryl was never good at directions" Elsie said dryly, rolling her eyes. "Isobel lives in the middle of town, and I have a cottage on the outskirts. Bugger to get to work every morning, but it's worth it."

"Well, I live that way as well" Dr Clarkson said, pointing towards the middle of town "and I happen to have my car here. I'd be happy to give you a lift?" he directed the question at Isobel, a gentle smile on his face.

"Haven't you been drinking?" Cora asked, wrapping her coat more tightly around her. Their was a slight breeze, that lifted their hair and created a draft around their necks. Isobel was beginning to wish that she had brought a scarf with her.

"I had one glass with you ladies. I can assure you, I'm more than capable of driving Ms Crawley home."

"It's really not necessary" Isobel said "I'm quite happy to go the long way home."

"Please?" he asked, laying a hand on her elbow "I insist. It's the least I can do after spilling wine all over you."

"Oh go on" Beryl said, as Isobel opened her mouth to point out that that debt was already paid. " it makes a lot more sense that the other option"

Not being able to argue, Isobel agreed and together she and Dr Clarkson bid her friends farewell. It took him a few moments to remember where he had parked his car, but eventually he lead her to a silver Honda, which he unlocked and opened the passenger door for her.

Once he was in the drivers seat, and they both had their seatbelts on Isobel spoke

"You really didn't have to do this you know. I could have just called another cab."

"Its Saturday night, you might have been waiting for ages." He answered with a smile "besides I was going that way anyway."

They fell into comfortable silence as he navigated his way out of the parking lot and onto the main road

"So" he eventually said "your friends are certainly entertaining. You all seem close."

"We've all known each other in some way since school days. Elsie and Beryl are distantly related, and Cora is the wife of Elsie's husband's best friend." Isobel supplied "I'm sorry, did that make sense?"

"It did."He answered with a laugh "I have patients telling me things like that all the time. I've learnt to interpret. So you said that your father was a doctor?"

"Yes, a general practitioner like you. My mother would have preferred him to become a surgeon, but he said he liked being able to talk to people."

"And you? Why didn't you go into the medical field?"

"I wanted to, I was either going to become a nurse or a doctor. But then my dad died and I lost the passion for it. Elsie's sister was the victim of a nasty attack, and the perpetrators got off with a very light sentence, so we decided to do law. As luck would have it, we were rather good at it." Isobel explained. Dr Clarkson nodded, focusing on changing lanes. Isobel studied him quietly, his grey eyes flickering between the rear view and side mirror, the watch on his strong arm, and his neatly trimmed fingers on the steering wheel. He turned to look at her suddenly and smiled when he caught her staring.

"And you?" she asked "what made you decide to become a doctor?"

"I actually wanted to be a vet" he answered "but I did a months job shadowing our local vet when I was boy, and decided that it wasn't for me. I loved the medicine side of it, but I couldn't see myself vaccinating cats and dogs all my life. So then I tried the human version, and never looked back."

"So you weren't following in someone's footsteps?"

"No. My mother was seamstress, so I suppose when I'm stitching someone up, you could say that I'm following in her footsteps. My father was a stable manager at one of the racing stables. I was the first I my family to go to university."

"They must have been so proud"

"They were" he answered with a smile "my mom cried for two hours straight when I graduated. All the other parents were fairly wealthy, and kept giving her odd looks because she couldn't seem to stop."

"You must have felt so loved" Isobel remarked

'Actually I felt a little embarrassed at the time, as young people do. But now when I think about it, I realize how important it was to her." He replied "and you? Your parents must have been proud?"

"I wouldn't know" she said, a street light lighting up the car "My dad died while I was still in highschool and my mother thought lawyers were the bane of human society. I haven't seen her since I moved out and into a tiny flat with Elsie."

"So you don't know where she is?" he asked, a concerned look on his face.

"She's in a retirement home near the coast. Well into her nineties by now, and my sister goes to see her once a week. I'm told that her tongue is still as sharp as ever, and that she occasionally asks after me."

"Its sad that you two drifted so much"

"Oh, we were never close. I was daddy's favorite, and a bit of a tom boy growing up. My sister was her favorite, and we both knew it, so we left it like that. I sent her a wedding invite when I married Reg, but she declined. I did get a wedding gift of a bread maker though."

"Well that's something."

"I've still got it actually. I rarely use it, but I can't bring myself to give it away. Elsie says that its bad luck to give a wedding gift away, and as it came from my mother it probably brings on something like the plague." Dr Clarkson let out a bark of laughter, before bringing his fist to his mouth to stop himself

"I'm sorry" he said "but just the way you said that made me laugh."

"Its fine" she answered, laughing along with him. "If you ever do get married remember that."

"I don't think I ever will, but I do live in hope that it's not too late for me. I like to think that when I'm eighty I'll marry a twenty five year old, and everyone will be jealous." He glanced over at her horrified expression and grinned "I'm joking" he clarified

Isobel relaxed and laughed a little at herself "So why aren't you married?" she asked

"Well apparently women don't take kindly to being locked in the basement and fed on Weetabix once a day" he said winking at her. He sobered a little "I don't know really. I've had one or two long term relationships, but the thought of proposing never even crossed my mind. I guess you could say that I just never found the right person."

"You're taking the next offramp" Isobel told him and he put the indicators on "Well maybe your twenty five year old will be born sometime this year."

"I can hope" he quipped, smirking slightly as he maneuvered the car to the top of the offramp. They were silent again as they drove, only breaking the silence when Isobel gave directions to her flat. A few minutes later they pulled up in front of her block of flats, and he turned the engine off as she gathered her stuff.

"Well, thank you for giving me a lift" she said, glancing over at him "I'm sure George will be happy to have me home a little earlier."

"George?" he asked, a perplexed look on his face "will he mind that I gave you a lift home?"

"Give him some tuna and he'll be fine" Isobel answered with a naughty smile "he's a cat. Named for Grey's Anatomy's George O'Malley."

A look of understanding lit up his face and he chuckled. She grinned at him, and opened her door

"Isobel wait." He asked and she turned back. He was turned to face her, his elbow resting on the steering wheel. "Thank you for tonight. To be honest I had every intention of getting drunk, catching a train home and being miserable. Instead, I had a fun time with you and your friends, and I don't have to deal with a hangover tomorrow either."

"You're welcome Richard." Isobel replied "we should do it again sometime. Thank you again for the lift."

She didn't know what made her do it, but she gently rested on hand on his cheek and kissed the other side. She lingered a few moment, breathing in his cologne before drawing back. As she did so though, his one hand reached up to grab her hand and his other hand came to rest on the back of her head, pulling her closer to him again. There was a brief moment of hesitation, of him silently asking her permission, and she moved a fraction closer in answer. He gently pressed his lips against hers, before slowly moving them, and before she knew it she was kissing him back.

She didn't know how long the kiss lasted, but she knew that she didn't want it to stop. She had kissed one man after Reg had died, and she had hated it. But kissing Richard felt like coming home. She wondered briefly when he had become Richard in her mind, and thought back to their phone call from the court house.

A cold feeling swept over her. She was kissing a witness that she would be questioning on Monday morning. She pulled back with a start, opening her eyes as a hurt expression crossed his face

"I'm sorry" she said "I'm so sorry. You're a witness, and I am questioning you. I'm so sorry." She fumbled with her bag, swinging it over her shoulder before quickly stepping out the car

"Isobel wait-" he called, but she closed the door and turned away

"I'm sorry" she said again, not knowing if he could hear her or not, before hurrying into the building and out of his site. She didn't know that he didn't drive away until she had climbed teo flights of stairs and let herself into her flat.

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 **Please take the time to let me know your thoughts. I really do appreciate it!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm dosed up on Flu meds, so I apologize for any errors. Please enjoy nevertheless!**

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"So all you have to do is start off by asking his to tell you his qualifications, and his relationship to the victim. It's very simple, we've done it in the depositions so he'll know how to answer, and he's a nice witness to question. He doesn't try and be clever. Charles has also done witness prep with him, so you don't have to worry about him answering the wrong way." Isobel coached in a soothing tone, glancing over at Sybil who was in the passenger seat next to her. It was early Monday morning, and they were on their way to the court house. The roads were busy, but thankfully the weather was good, and there weren't any accidents on the way in, something they were both taking as a sign that it would be a good morning. Isobel had already spent an hour at work, going over questions with Sybil, re-watching the deposition tapes and warning her about a few of Violet's signature moves. She had managed to stop for a few minutes to quickly discuss a few staffing issues with Elsie before she and Sybil had had to dash off to the Court house.

It had been rushed, and she'd barely had time to breath, but that was the way she had wanted it. She didn't want to have time to think about Saturday night, didn't want to think about Richard Clarkson as anything but a witness. It had been bad enough over Sunday, when she couldn't get him out of her head, and she had had to turn her phone off to stop herself from calling him.

It was better this way. Isobel knew how to be a lawyer, she knew where everything should be and she didn't have to worry about trivial matters like feelings. She knew that that made her sound cold, but it had calmed her down, and helped her think rationally. Richard…Dr Clarkson, was a solid witness. There wasn't much Violet could do in terms of discrediting him, and the Dr in front of his name certainly helped when it came to the jury. That was all she thought of him, all she would allow herself to think of him.

"So what do I start with?" Sybil asked, her fingers drumming a beat on the door handle next to her. She was staring out the window with a faraway look on her face "I can't just stand up and bellow at him about his qualifications."

"Well obviously not." Isobel sighed "Surely you did mock trials in law school? It's good morning, please state your name for the record, and then ask him about medical school and so on. You won't even have to worry about Violet until you get to the serious questioning about the victim."

"Okay." Sybil said, drawing a deep breath and letting it out slowly "Okay I can do that. As you said, we did it during law school."

"Of course you can" Isobel replied, smiling with relief that Sybil was getting a little of her confidence back. They traded suggestions back and forth, both ridiculous and serious, and Sybil slowly returned to her usual self just as they were pulling into the parking lot of the court house, which was teaming with cars and people.

"I'm going to throw up" Sybil announced as the car came to a halt. Isobel shot a concerned glance her way but didn't bother answering as she gathered her bag, her travel mug, and checked her hair in the rearview mirror. She carefully applied a new coat of lipstick, before she opened the door, and climbed out, grabbing the keys from the ignition as she straitened up. Sybil still hadn't moved from her seat. Isobel sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes and calmly walked around the car, and opened the passenger door, placing one hand on her hip as she did so.

"You can't question him from the parking lot." She told her sternly "come on, out you get"

She knew that she was being a little bit unfair, and possibly a little too tough, but Sybil was a headstrong girl and if you mollycoddled her too much she would end up falling apart.

Sybil shot her an annoyed look, but grabbed her own brief case and stepped out of the car. She waited, biting her lip while Isobel locked the car, and together they walked into the imposing building . Sybil looked a little green, but was walking confidently and Isobel resisted the urge to smile at her. She had been incredibly nervous the first time she had questioned someone on the stand. She had dropped half her notes, and her tyrant of her boss had demoted her to the filing room for a week afterwards. She had learnt her lesson though, and these days it rarely bothered her.

The court house was packed with people as they passed through security, a busy day with all the DUI's from over the weekend. Clerks were running around, passing over files to one another as lawyers leant against the walls, phones or files in hand, all subtly ignoring the panicked atmosphere around them. Isobel greeted the ones she knew as they made their way to their court room, stopping to trade a few words with a clerk she used to work with.

Isobel's phone buzzed, and she quickly scrambled to retrieve her phone from her bag, not bothering to slow her pace and letting Sybil lead the way. At last she extracted it, and frowned when she realized that it turned out to be nothing of importance. Muttering to herself about advertisers, she was in the process of deleting the text when she felt Sybil stop dead in front of her. She looked up, fully prepared to give Sybil whatever lecture she needed to get her into the Court room and immediately locked eyes with Richard Clarkson, who was being shown into the witness waiting room. Isobel froze, the memory of the weekend returning to the front of her mind with a rush, and she felt herself flush. He opened his mouth to greet them, but before he could Sybil nodded and carried on walking through the court room doors. Isobel hesitated a moment, her eyes still locked with his, before nodding briefly and hurrying after her charge through the doors.

Isobel took a deep breath as she closed the door behind her, and dropped her head. She then hurried to the prosecution table where Sybil was now unpacking her briefcase.

"Are you alright?" Sybil asked, arranging folders on the table in front of her, and not looking up.

"I should be asking you that" Isobel pointed out, placing her case on the floor. She could a sip of coffee from her mug to buy herself some time to steady herself.

"I'm fine" Sybil said with a shrug "I feel better now that we're actually in the court room."

Before Isobel could answer the court room doors opened again, and Violet and her team walked in. She greeted Sybil, and sat down at her table, forcing her associate to run around her to get to his seat.

"I wonder what you've done wrong" Sybil remarked, noticing that Violet was studiously ignoring Isobel "You're being given the silent treatment, same as she used to do to Mamma when we were little."

Isobel shrugged in response, and finished her coffee without a word. She leaned down to place her mug in her bag, when the bailiff announced that they were ready to start. They stood as the judge entered, and waited patiently as the jury filed in shortly afterwards.

"Prosecution, we're doing your last few witnesses today, is that correct?" Judge Gardner asked, looking over his glasses at them.

"Yes your honour" Sybil said, standing up. This seemed to get a reaction out of Violet, who looked around with a start. Isobel frowned in return. There was no need to be quite so dramatic; she must have known Sybil was going to be doing some question on this case.

"Very well, please call your witness" the judge replied.

"The prosecution calls Dr Richard Clarkson to the stand" Sybil announced in a clear voice, and Isobel felt a surge of pride. All her nerves seemed to have disappeared, and she was holding herself as though she had been doing this for years. A side door opened and Richard was shown in by the bailiff. He climbed up the stairs into the jury box, and sat down. Isobel quickly looked down, not wanting to catch his eye again. She listened as he was sworn in, doodling on the page in front of her, and tried not to blush as the sound of his voice washed over her.

"Please state your name for the record" Sybil said, once the bailiff had taken his seat again and she had been given the all clear to proceed with her questioning. She moved past Isobel, and walking to stand in front of the witness stand.

"Richard Clarkson" he answered steadily

"And you were the victims family doctor, am I correct?"

"That's correct."

"How long have you been her doctor?"

"About seven years. I first started seeing her when she and her partner moved into the area."

"When you say her partner, do you mean a romantic partner?"

"Yes, it was my understanding that they were engaged."

"Was her partner that man?" Sybil asked, and Isobel looked up to see her pointing at the suspect.

"Yes. Mr. Kruger." Richard Clarkson replied

"Let the record show that I had pointed to the defendant." Sybil said "Were you his doctor as well?"

"No." he relied "I have never treated Mr. Kruger. As far as I know Mr. Kruger chose to stick with his current GP, despite the travelling difference."

'Dr Clarkson, to the best of your knowledge, was your patient ever suicidal?" Sybil asked

"Objection!"

"On what grounds?" Sybil asked incredulously turning to face her grandmother.

"I believe that's my line" the judge said, raising an eyebrow at Sybil. Abashed, she took a step back and nodded.

"On the grounds that the witness is not properly qualified to answer the question." Violet said, a hint of smugness creeping into her tone.

"I did not ask him if he thought she was suicidal, I asked if he was aware that she was." Sybil argued "Dr Clarkson received reports from her therapist and from her oncologist; I was merely asking if, to his knowledge, the victim was suicidal."

"We had her therapist on the stand two days ago; I believe that this is a wasted question."

"No its not, I want to know if he was made aware of her mental condition at the time."

"Enough" the judge said raising his hand "Overruled. You may continue your line of questioning Miss Crawley, but I'm warning you to tread carefully."

"Yes your honour thank you" Sybil said, her shoulders visibly relaxing again "Dr Clarkson, do you need me to ask the question again?"

"No. She never seemed suicidal. Her therapist expressed surprise, as did I when I saw her, as too her optimistic outlook on life."

"Well, I'm sure we all know of someone that has cancer, and they're not depressed either"

"There's a quote that I can use perfectly to describe this. Depression is not a side effect of cancer. It's a side effect of dying. Miss Jones had a very rare, and very aggressive type of cancer, one that there is only a 5% chance of survival. When one is living on borrowed time as it were, it can be easy to, for want of a better word, give up."

"You were away when Miss Jones came in for her last check up is that correct?"

"It is."

"And your colleague, Dr John Lewis, saw her instead of you?"

"That's correct. We work together, and therefore if one of us is away we're not bringing in a total stranger to see our patients."

"So who's to say things might have changed, during the time between her death and the time when you last saw her."

"Our clinic keeps extensive records, it's one of the things we pride ourselves on. There was no mention of her seeming depressed or suicidal."

"Isn't it possible that he merely neglected to make a note of it?"

"Anything is possible; you would have to ask him to be certain. But there was a note stating that she seemed bright and was coping well. Her cancer was going into remission, and to be honest we were all flabbergasted. She had no reason to be depressed, or suicidal from a medical point of view."

Isobel's phone vibrated, and she subtly reached for it, still half paying attention to the questioning. It was a text from Thomas.

 _Meet me outside the court room_

She locked her phone, and looked up to where Sybil was now asking Richard about his knowledge of Miss Jones and the defendant. She didn't really want to leave her on her own when this was her first time questioning a witness in court, despite the fact that she was handling herself exceptionally well. She glanced over at Violet, who was listening with a pen in hand, with a slightly bored expression on her face. She didn't seem to be up to something but with Violet you never knew. Was it worth taking a risk if Thomas had new information that would ultimately help their case? She debated with herself for a few moments more, before quietly standing up and exiting the room.

The crowds had started to thin out as most of the courtrooms were now in session, and she found Thomas fairly quickly. He was waiting for her, leaning against the wall across the room from her, texting on his phone. He was dressed casually, in dark jeans and a light shirt, with a long coat draped over his arm. In his hand he held a large envelope.

He looked up at the sound of Isobel's heels clicking, and smirked.

"Isobel" he greeted, straightening up as she approached, and kissing her on the cheek. "How is it going with Violent Violet?"

"It's more Violent than usual, and I've left Sybil questioning a witness so this had better be good." Isobel replied, returning the kiss "please tell me you have something that will put her in her place for once and for all?"

"Did you know that I had many other offers when I first moved here?" Thomas asked, a dreamy look coming into his eye "I could have a job that paid twice as much as this one does, but when I came in for my interview, you were in the middle of the Rushford case with her, and I remember thinking 'this is going to be such fun'"

"Thomas…" Isobel said impatiently

"Alright alright" he frowned "well, I have to admit it hasn't been easy trying to get something for you, the man is like a priest. He doesn't talk to anyone, and has hardly any friends, and his enemies know very little about him. However I did manage to find something."

"Just to be clear, it is something I can use in court?"

"Of course." Thomas replied, handing her an envelope, which Isobel grabbed and opened eagerly "its proof that his alibi checks out."

Isobel paused in opening the envelope and looked up in dismay

"Thomas" she said "I'm not sure which side you think we're on here"

"Isobel" he replied "have I ever lead you astray? Open the envelope!"

Isobel raised her eyebrow at him, but did as she was told. She pulled out a photograph, and flipped it the right way so she could see what it depicted. Sure enough, it was a photograph of the defendant, walking with a taller grey haired man. It was in the evening, and they were only visible due to the light from a street lamp. There was a time stamp in the bottom right hand corner, stating that the image was from the day of the victim's death.

"Okay" she said slowly "I feel like I'm missing something. As you said, this just proves he has a alibi."

"Yes he does." Thomas agreed "but, look at the street name."

Isobel squinted to see a little better

"Gordon Road...hold on isn't that-"

"Where the dog park is situated." Thomas confirmed "So he was a five minute walk away from the dog park on the night she died, with the same man he's using as an alibi. Bit fishy don't you think?"

"But why don't the police have this?"

"Because they don't think." Thomas said smugly "This was taken from a cafe across the road. It's from their CCTV cameras. They usually don't catch the street, but the cameras were only installed two days before this. They changed the angle of the camera the next day, so the police never thought to check it."  
"So why did you?" Isobel asked, studying the photo again. Thomas snorted

"If I tell you all my secrets I'd be out of a job." He answered, patting her on the shoulder "anyway, the owners of the footage are more than happy for you to use this photo, so it's perfectly legal."

"I'll have to admit this into evidence right now. Sybil is questioning our last witness as we speak." Isobel said, looking up at Thomas with a beam

"Tick tock" he replied lazily

"I owe you big time" she told him, before turning and hurrying back to the court room.

"A raise would be nice" he called after her. Isobel grinned, and made a mental note to mention it to Elsie at their next meeting. She swung open the door to the court room, and walked back inside, the photograph clutched to her chest.

Sybil was thankfully still questioning Dr Clarkson.

"...true that there are several mentions of possible physical abuse in your notes?"

There was a beat of silence, as Isobel slid back into her chair, and picked up a pen to hastily scribble a note to Sybil.

"Dr Clarkson?" Sybil prompted

"I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?"

"Certainly" Sybil said graciously "I asked if it was true that you made notes in your records several times about possible physical abuse."

"Yes I did. The victim, my patient, often had bruises on her arms and ribs, and once on her head. She always blamed an accident, but they started appearing too regularly. No one is that clumsy."

"Thank you" Sybil said "I have no further questions. Your witness" she said to Violet.

Violet waited for Sybil to take her seat before standing and clearing her throat.

"My apologies" she said "I seem to be coming down with a cold."

"I recommend plenty of rest and lots of fluids" Dr Clarkson replied, earning a collective titter from the jury."

"Thank you" Violet said earnestly "Dr Clarkson, a common cold is something you see daily am I correct?"

"Yes, amongst other things. As you said, it is a 'common' cold"

"And depression? Would you say that depression is a common disease you have to deal with?"

"No. As I stated, I am not a Psychiatrist. I was seeing Miss Jones for monthly check ups on her Cancer, as my clinic is an off shoot from the hospital."

"So you are not an expert on depression?"

Isobel elbowed Sybil, who was currently reading the long note Isobel had pushed in front of her. She jumped and whirled around on Isobel, before hurriedly standing

"Objection!" she called.

"Grounds?" the judge asked

"Uhm" Sybil replied, blinking like a deer caught in the head lights. Isobel reached over and scrawled a hurried note in front of her. "Uhm, on the grounds that this question has already been asked and answered. Everyone in this courtroom is aware that Dr. Clarkson is not qualified to deal with depression. It is hardly my fault if the defence hasn't been paying attention."

"My apologies your honour, I'll withdraw." Violet said before he could reply, and Sybil sat back down again

"Good job" Isobel muttered, and Sybil smiled gratefully in return

"Dr. Clarkson, you stay near the middle of town is that correct?" Violet asked

"That's correct. About three blocks away from my practise."

"And you mentioned earlier that you're an offshoot from the hospital?"

"That's correct. They're trying to cut down on lengthy queues, and are referring all checkups to various private practices around the city."

"So it would be fair to say you are often in the vicinity of the hospital?"

"Objection!" Sybil said, standing again "your honour, we seem to be going off on a tangent here. What relevance has this got on the case?"

"Your honour, if I could be allowed a little leeway, I am coming to my point." Violet said innocently

"Very well, but let's make this quick" The judge replied "you may answer Dr Clarkson."

"Yes, I'm usually at the hospital at least once a week."

"And isn't it true that you often visit the pub 'The Hound' while there?"

"Objection!" Sybil said in an exasperated tone "your honour, I'm sorry but again, what has this got to do with the case?"

"In fact you were there this past Saturday is that correct?" Violet asked, before the judge could acknowledge Sybil.

"That's correct" Dr Clarkson replied, his eyes briefly flicking to Isobel before returning to Violet.  
"Dr Clarkson, isn't it true that you had drinks with a member of the prosecutions legal team, and drove her back to her flat later that evening?"

"OBJECTION!" Sybil roared, jumping to her feet, but Isobel didn't hear the rest of what she was saying. She felt her stomach drop, and her whole world sounded as though she was being sucked into a black hole. She froze, feeling his gaze on her again, and slowly she raised her eyes to meet his. His mouth was half open, about to answer and Isobel felt her case come crashing down. She closed her eyes as she heard his answer

"That's correct"

"So Dr Clarkson, isn't it possible that while you were having drinks with Isobel Crawley, the prosecutions lead lawyer, and doing god knows what at her flat that she told you exactly what to say? Why should we believe your testimony at all?"

"Objection!" Sybil cried again, actually slamming her fists down on the table in front of her

"Withdrawn" Violet said "no further questions."

"Your honour!"

"Yes, I hear the outrage in your voice Miss Crawley. Has anyone noticed how many Crawley's we have in this room? It's most confusing. However Mrs Crawley's questioning was valid. I'm calling for an hour recess for lunch. I suggest the prosecution finds another attorney to take the lead on this case, if personal issues are going to be brought into this case." Judge Gardner said, looking over his glasses at them before closing his files and sweeping from the room, followed swiftly by the jury. There was a deathly silence as Dr Clarkson was lead back to the witness room, and the defendant was escorted out by the bailiff. The closing of the door behind them sounded like a gunshot, and Isobel jumped as it echoed through the room

"Sybil..." Isobel started "I can explain"

"Isobel, you're my boss, and I respect you, but right now I can't even look at you. How could you do that? How could you not tell me? Do you have any idea how this will impact this case?!"

"We can still win this" Isobel said "with the new evidence-"

"Oh come on! The jury ate it up! It was sex Isobel. It wasn't forensics that you need a degree to follow, or complicated medical terms. It was sex. With a witness, no less."

"It wasn't-"

"I don't care if it was or wasn't. It's what they believe!" Sybil snapped. "I'm going for lunch. I'll be back in time for court, provided I can stand to be near you without killing you."

In short angry movements she gathered up her files, her bag and swept from the room, leaving Isobel alone at the table. With a groan, she rested her head in her hands, covering her eyes with the tips of her fingers. She was in shock. Only a few minutes ago her case had finally started to look up, to the point where she thought she might win. Now her case was in a downward spiral, and she had lost her reputation as well. Why hadn't she warned Sybil? Why hadn't she asked Charles or Elsie to take over the case? She had ruined Sybil's first ever trial, and there wasn't anything she would ever be able to do to make up for it.

Things tended to get around the world of lawyers fast, and nothing was ever forgotten. She would always be known as the woman who slept with a witness, even though she hadn't. And Richard, poor sweet Richard would likely face the same at work. The Doctor who was sleeping around while being a witness in his patient's murder case. She had seen his face as he walked out, the frown and the look in his eyes as he looked at her. She would never be able to face him again. Every feeling of guilt that she had managed to suppress this morning came rushing back, and she gagged as it threatened to strangle her. She didn't know if she wanted to throw something, or cry, but she knew she was going to do something.

"You should know" Violet said softly, coming to the side of Isobel "I had no idea that Sybil would be questioning today"

"Didn't stop you though did it?" Isobel snapped, raising her head, and straightening her spine. Violet wasn't standing as close as she thought, but was rather standing in front of her own table, collecting her paperwork. She looked up sharply at Isobel's tone.

"Isobel, I warned you when we were still discussing settlements that I wouldn't go easy on her. I'm here to win, and you know this." She spat

"Well I suppose you think you've done that."

"I have." Violet said, yet there was no gloating in her tone. She was simply stating the fact. "There's no way you can come back from that Isobel, and you know it. If your case was strong to begin with you might be able to, but we both know your case was shaky to begin with. I would suggest you drop this case and save us all some time."

"No" Isobel said, standing up and walking over to the defence table, where Violet was gathering her things. "New evidence has come to light, proving that your client was at the scene of the crime, with his alibi on the night of the victim's death." She slid the photograph across the desk towards Violet, who picked it up and glanced at it. Her face changed slightly, and it was then that Isobel knew that she could still fix this, even if it wouldn't be in court, and Sybil would likely be more unhappy with her. Still, this was work, and she had to put that above it all, especially as it had already been compromised by her stupidity.  
"It comes from a security camera across the road" Isobel explained "and it was obtained legitimately, so I will be admitting it into evidence."

"This proves nothing"

"It gives me reasonable doubt"

"So what do you suggest?" Violet asked, sliding the photo back to Isobel using only her manicured nail.

"What we should have done before." Isobel said with a shrug "We settle. A guilty confession of manslaughter, revoking of all weapon licences, and fifteen years jail time."

"Ten years" Violet replied, closing her folder "five for good behaviour."

"Fine" Isobel said, offering her hand for Violet to shake. They shook, both of them meeting the others eye before Violet picked up her folder and walking away, calling over her shoulder as she went

"I'll take it to my client."

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 **Soooo? Please review if you can spare a moment!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys, sorry for the delay. I've been struggling with this one for weeks! Still, I hope its not too appalling. Its kinda hard to know what Isobel would do in a situation like this, so I'm worried that I've managed to make her overly weepy, or seriously detached. Ugh. Better days ahead, I swear! Thank you to those who are still reading and reviewing xx**

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Isobel used the last few moments in the elevator to compose herself. Her stomach remained on the ground floor as she shot upwards, the enclosed space making it hard to breathe. The silver metal of the box reflected her puffy face, and disheveled hair. Grimacing, she did her best to quickly comb it back into place with her fingers. Eventually, she undid the clip holding it back, and hastily redid it. It looked a little better, but it was still not as neat as it had been when she left for work this morning. There was nothing she could do about her eyes though, as the doors were about to slide open, but she hoped that she could duck into her office without having to see anyone.

It had been a whirl wind last few hours, and she wanted nothing more than to go home and forget this day had ever happened. It felt like she had been on a rollercoaster of emotions, from nervous, to confidence, to shock and hurt and the feeling of being inferior and everything in between.

She hadn't dared show her emotion in the court house, she refused to make a scene and let Violet know how much her little trick had cost Isobel. So she had fought to remain calm, she had done what any good lawyer would have done, and tried to make the best of a bad situation.

Violet had convinced her client to take the deal, a feat that even Isobel was surprised at and while the paperwork was being hurriedly drawn up, Isobel had gone looking for Sybil. It had taken her awhile, but eventually she found her, sitting on a bench outside with her long black hair blowing in her face. She had calmed down slightly, no longer spewing words of anger but instead she had turned icy, her voice cold and disinterested, in a manner very similar to Violet when she was angry. Isobel had sat down next to her, and explained the deal she had managed to procure. She hoped against hope that it would be some sort of consolation to Sybil that at least the defendant would not walk free. She wasn't sure what she expected but when Sybil merely nodded, and announced that she would be taking a cab back to the office, she felt as though her insides had been scooped out with a spoon. Isobel had tried to call her back to explain and apologize but Sybil carried on walking, leaving Isobel to return to the court room with Violet to inform the judge that a settlement had been agreed on.

Once all the paperwork had been dealt with it was all over, leaving Violet free to leave, and take over another case, and Isobel to wander out of the court house in a daze, wondering how on earth she was going to face going back to the office. She considering phoning Elsie and telling her that she was taking the rest of the afternoon off, but Isobel refused to be a coward, so instead she slowly made her way to her car, and clambered in. She sat there for a few moments, forcing back the overwhelming desire to start the car and drive far away, leaving all her problems behind.

Eventually, without really paying attention she had started the drive back to the office, barely noticing that her body seemed to know where she was going as her hands and feet seemed to be on autopilot, guiding the car without much thought from her. It was only then that she had let the tears fall, and despite her trying to stem them they came thick and fast, their saltiness flooding her mouth, and her face screwing up with the effort to keep them at bay.

She had made a huge mistake. There was no other way to put it, and no way to deny it. It would be easy to point fingers at Violet, and the judge, and Richard himself, but when it came down to the cold hard facts it had been her judgment that had lead her to this, or rather her lack thereof. Sybil had every right to hate her, as did everyone else in that court room. She must have looked a fool, sitting there with her mouth open, not doing a thing to stop the awful questioning. She had felt the stares of the jury burning into her back as the questioning blew up, the judgment and the pity. She had felt the open hostility seeping from Sybil, a bright and eager lawyer who was supposed to be her protégé, and instead she had hurt her career.

She had been so stupid, so pig headed. Why hadn't she asked someone else to take over the case? Asked for a continuance until Charles or Elsie was available? Why hadn't she at very least warned Sybil? Was it because she thought she was superwoman, as Reggie had accused her of thinking she was so many times? Or was it because she was ashamed? But if it had been shame, why even now, did thinking about that kiss warm her, and make her breath come faster?

She had let them down in so many ways, and she had no idea how she was ever going to gain their trust again. Everyone made mistakes, Elsie would probably be the first person to tell her that, but this mistake had affected everyone. Their firm would be constantly tainted now.

And Richard, poor Richard, what would happen to him? Probably nothing, no one from his work place was there, so it would never come back to him. Besides, he hadn't done anything wrong. But still she wondered, was he feeling as guilty as she was? Did he feel that he had let his patient down, at the trial of her murderer? She knew him well enough to know that he was an honest and caring man. How had he felt having had his word questioned in such a manner?

Without realizing it, she had pulled into the parking lot of her office, and she was surprised to see the familiar entrance way. She parked in her usual spot, leaving the car running for a minute while she took a moment to blow her nose and dry her eyes. She then took a deep breath, turned the engine off, and before she could lose her nerve, got out, locked it, and hurried into the building and into the elevator.

The doors slid open to reveal Ethel and Anna leaning over the front desk, Anna explaining something to Ethel, clicking away on the screen in front of her, and turning to smile at something Ethel had said, before they both turned to greet whoever had just come up in the elevator. They both greeted her with a smile, which Isobel did her best to return, before returning to the task at hand while Isobel scurried past. She resisted the urge to check over her shoulder to see if they were staring, discussing what had happened in the court house.

Sybil's office door was closed, the light still off. Yet Isobel could see that her laptop was gone from where she had left it in the morning. Isobel wondered if she had told anyone what had happened, or merely decided to take the afternoon off. Who in the office knew? Would everyone be whispering as soon as she got into her office?

Elsie's door was open, and Isobel was about to walk in and tell her sorry tale to her best friend, but Elsie was busy with a client. Isobel ducked her head, and moved quickly into her own office next door, closing the door behind her. With a sigh, whether it was relief or self pity she wasn't sure, she dropped her bag on the floor, before sinking into her office chair. She gazed out of the window, remembering a rainy day, and how he had stood there cracking jokes about Violet. It already seemed like a life time ago, yet in reality it had only happened a few short weeks ago.

Why had she insisted she be the one to meet him? The question kept nagging her. She could have sent anyone. Sybil had offered repeatedly. The last few hours were a culmination of all the terrible choices she had made in the last couple of weeks, without even thinking about them.

Isobel reached down and slid her shoe off, her knock-em-dead heels now seeming like a mockery. She dropped it carelessly onto the floor before absentmindedly rubbing her aching foot. She wanted nothing more than to go home, and spend the rest of the afternoon in her pajamas, eating junk food and feeling sorry for herself. But they were already down an associate, and she couldn't leave Elsie to cope with the mess. So she took a deep breath and fired up her laptop.

Her case notes were still up from this morning, and with a grimace she quickly closed the page, as the name Dr Clarkson jumped out at her, leaving her with her screensaver of Mathew at his graduation. It wasn't a typical graduation shot, but rather one that she had managed to capture almost by mistake. He was still wearing the hat, but the gown was sliding off one shoulder, and he was laughing at something in the distance. Isobel had spent the morning on the edge of tears, because her child, the little boy who would get lost exploring buildings and come back covered in dust and cobwebs, tired but happy, was now a grown man who had a degree and was living on his own. But in that moment, that little boy smile had lit up his face, and for just a moment he was five again. It was her favorite photo of him.

How would she feel if someone had ruined his career by making a stupid mistake? She would have been furious, ready to tear that person to shreds on his behalf.

Granted, Sybil would be able to come back from this. She hadn't permanently ruined her career. But for years it would follow her around the social gatherings, and the potential job interviews. "Aren't you the one who was undermined by her boss?"

People would forget it eventually, people always did. But would Sybil ever forgive her? Isobel wasn't sure that she would forgive herself if the situation was reversed.

A tap on the door pulled her out of her reverie, and she turned just in time to see Ethel poking her head through.

"Dr. Clarkson is here to see you." She said, tilting her head "are you alright? You look a little frazzled?

"Tell him I'm not back yet." She answered shortly, her tone causing Ethel to raise an eyebrow. Isobel sighed and rubbed her forehead

'I'm sorry" she said tiredly "I didn't mean to sound harsh. Send him in. "

Ethel nodded and withdrew, wisely saying nothing as she went. Isobel quickly opened a random document on her screen to make her seem busy. Lines filled the page in front of her, and after fumbling to slide her shoe back on, she pretended to read them while she waited for him to be shown in. After a few minutes, she got bored of waiting and turned back towards the door, just as it opened, and he slowly walked in.

Cursing herself for her impatience she waited until he had taken the seat opposite from her, placing his bag on the floor in front of him as he did so.

"I'm sorry" they both said simultaneously, before falling into an awkward silence. They stared at each other, clearly waiting for the other to go on, but all that was heard was the murmur of voices outside the door, and the slight hum from her computer. Isobel felt sick. She was never nervous meeting people, or spending time with them. But with him it was different. She felt as though she was facing the gallows.

"I'm sorry" he repeated a few moments later, when the silence between them became oppressing "I never meant to put you in that situation."

"You couldn't have known." Isobel said softly, not meeting his eyes. She picked up a pen in front of her and started playing with it "It was my lack of judgement that caused all this. I knew you were a witness and I went ahead with it anyway."

"No you didn't" he argued, his tone becoming harsher. He leant forward in his chair, his hands resting on the desk between them. Isobel studied them, rather than meeting his intense gaze "I wanted you to stay, more than I've ever wanted anything, and you walked away because it wasn't right. I knew it wasn't right, and I wanted you to stay anyway."

"I wanted to stay." She admitted carefully. Her gaze was still focused on his hands, the neatness of his nails and the obvious strength in them "But I had to think of Sybil, and the case, and it all backfired anyway. Perhaps I should have stayed, as the end result was exactly the same."

"No, you shouldn't have. The end result would have been so much worse." He said gently "Isobel, please look at me?"

Slowly she raised her eyes, almost flinching when they met his.

"Well I guess we'll never know will we?" She said, a humorless smile on her lips "I wonder where Violet managed to find a witness?"

"Some woman named Gladys Denker?" Dr Clarkson said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leant back in his chair again. "She came up to me at the court house. Told me that I ought to be ashamed of myself for jeopardizing the case. She seemed quite full of herself. I don't know who she is but-"

"I do." Isobel said, her voice turning bitter "she's Violet's P.A. That woman hates me, so of course she would say something like that to you. I'm so sorry Dr Clarkson that was unprofessional of her. Although, I suppose that is the pot calling the kettle black."

Isobel pushed her chair back and walked to the window, glancing down at the street below her, trying to control the rage she suddenly had inside of her for Gladys Denker.

"So, its Dr Clarkson again I see?" he said quietly, also standing up, but remaining next to his chair. Isobel froze, but then turned to face him slowly.

"I think that's for the best don't you?" She asked softly "This is already such a mess, and I think continuing would make it even worse."

He considered for a moment, biting his lip in thought, and Isobel had to force herself to stay there, and not run for the door, and hide in the filing room until he was gone.

"What if I said that you're the only woman who's remained inside my head from the moment I met you?" he eventually said "The only one I think about when I'm at work, and am supposed to be focused on my patients? Isobel, I've never met someone like you. What if I want you to stay?"

"I'm sorry" she said, once again choking back tears "I can't. Not after this. Don't you see? I would feel guilty every time I looked at you? I'm so sorry, I wish it could be different, but I can't"

"Damnit Isobel, stop saying you're sorry!" he shouted, his sudden raised tone making her jump. She crossed her arms in front of her, and took half a step back "Because you have nothing to be sorry for." He added in a quieter tone, his expression softening "I'm the one who should be sorry."

He looked up at her, the light from the window catching the silver streaks in his hair, and making his eyes seem lighter than they usually were. It lasted for a moment, before he blinked, picked up his bag, and swung it over his shoulder.

"Richard wait" Isobel said, surprising herself. She crossed her office floor to him, and gently kissed him, allowing herself to linger before pulling herself away and turning her back to him to hide the tears that were threatening to fall again.

"Goodbye Isobel" he whispered, and Isobel heard the door open and shut. She waited for a few moments and turned, still half hoping that he would still be standing there, only to find her office was empty. Closing her eyes, she swallowed, pushing down all the emotion that threatened to overcome her.

Then she walked to her chair, and sat down, not allowing herself to slump as she usually did. Instead she remained rigid, and quickly checked her emails. As she suspected, there was one from Violet that had come through, enclosing a copy of the signed confession, and settlement agreement. Isobel scanned through it, simply to make sure that everything was in order, before she added it to the case folder, and quickly sent it along her case notes through to Ethel to be filed, before she declared the case closed, and removed all evidence of it from her personal computer.

She wished more than anything that she could remove the case from her memory as easily as she could remove it from her computer, but it would be something that would be at the forefront of her mind for months to come. The only thing she could think of to do was to do what she usually did, and bury herself in work.

Clearing her throat she opened her emails, and scanned through all the ones she had neglected in the last week. She had paperwork to catch up on, and several clients that needed some attention. She had robbery to deal with, and a housewife to defend. There was more than enough here that she could hide in her office for a month straight if she really wanted to. She could even take on a few pro bonos. Give the associates less to do.

She sent Ethel a quick email, asking her to set up meetings with a few of the clients in the course of the next week, and reviewed her notes on the robbery she was supposed to be prosecuting. It would be an open and shut case really, but it still required time and effort, and at the moment she had more than enough of that to give. She should also make some time to see Mathew, she hadn't done anything with him recently except have him drop by for a quick cup of coffee. She had been a little short with him over the phone the last time they spoke, a few days before the trial began, and she owed him an apology for that. Perhaps they could go out for supper together, or at least go and see a movie.

A quick knock on the door stopped her from picking up the phone and making arrangements, and without waiting for an answer Elsie stepped into the room. She was raised an eyebrow at Isobel, and hurried to the seat opposite her. Once there, she didn't say a word, but merely sat there like an obedient puppy. Isobel tried to ignore her, but Elsie's piercing blue eyes seemed to bore a hole into her.

"I see you've sent Sybil home" she eventually said, raising her head so she could look her friend straight in the eye.

"I did" Elsie said, nodding slowly. Isobel waited, fully expecting Elsie to go into a full out rant about expectations of the firm, and demand to know exactly what Isobel had been thinking. If she didn't own half of the business Isobel would be fully expecting to be fired on the spot.

The associates didn't call Elsie the Scottish dragon for nothing. She was known for her icy temper and her lack of patience when it came to incompetence. But what Isobel was forgetting was that Elsie was an uncommonly kind woman, who would never kick someone when they were down.

"She had a…..difficult morning" Elsie said, choosing her words with care "I think an afternoon off will be good for her."

"She probably needs a week off" Isobel said.

"She can't take a week off every time she has a bad morning, and I refuse to teach her that she can" Elsie said, her tone the stern no nonsense snap that Isobel was used to.

"It wasn't just a bad morning Elsie" Isobel said "I have ruined everything."

"No you haven't" Elsie said "why would you think that?"

"Did Sybil not tell you what happened today?"

"She did" Elsie said, shifting in her seat so she could lean on the table that separated them "but now I would like to hear it from you."

Isobel studied her friends face for a moment before launching into the whole story. She started right at the beginning, when she had first seen his photo and pondered how he would come off to the jury, to when they had coffee when she had first interviewed him, how he had given her his pen. She told her about how it had been dark and pouring with rain when he came in for his deposition, and how he had made her day with Violet that much better by cracking jokes about principles. She told her about how she had begun to think of him as a friend rather than a witness, before going on to explaining exactly what had happened when he had driven her home from the bar. She spoke of how nervous she was, but how she had decided to keep it professional in the courtroom by pretending none of it had ever happened, and even felt confident enough to leave Sybil questioning him while she stepped out to speak to Thomas.

Without realizing it, she told Elsie everything, the guilt and the pleasure that surrounded that stupid kiss. She must have spoken for over an hour, with Elsie only interrupting to ask a question here and there.

When she was finished she felt lighter as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It hadn't felt heavy before, but now that she had shared her secret, the secret she wasn't even aware she was keeping, everything suddenly felt easier to bear.

Elsie was quiet for a few moments once Isobel had finally finished, chewing her lip in thought. Isobel waited almost anxiously, worried that she might have managed to shock even Elsie.

"Oh Isobel" Elsie eventually said, her voice impossibly soft and her accent more noticeable than ever.

"I know" Isobel said bitterly "you cannot believe that I could have been so stupid. That after the amount of work we've put into this place, I feel it's okay to risk it all on a silly little…infatuation! My mother was right, I am a ridiculous person, a spoiled brat, who never appreciated anything.

"That's not what I meant," Elsie replied softly. "and you know I could never think that of you."

"You should think that of me" said Isobel "it's true after all"

Despite her best efforts she could feel the tears building up again, and she angrily blinked them away. She was being childish, crying like a teenage girl who'd had her heart broken for the first time. She was a grown woman, and she needed to get her head straight.

"You're heartbroken" Elsie commented, her tone almost awed as though she was seeing a rare bird or someone had just handed her a cheque for a large sum of money.

"I am not" Isobel said, making an attempt to sound stern and failing miserably. Her voice came out as a strange croak, like something was blocking the sound from escaping.

"Isobel, you never cry." Elsie said, getting up and moving her chair around so that they were on the same side of the desk. She sat down again, causing their knees to touch, and reached for Isobel's hand, which she held on tight to despite Isobel trying to pull away from her grasp "This wasn't some stupid mistake was it?"

"Of course it was." Isobel said, taking a deep breath to get her emotions under control. "How are we ever going to come back from this? No one will hire us if we're going to screw up cases like this."

"Do you love him?" asked Elsie

"What?" squeaked Isobel, her head snapping up in surprise.

"Did you fall in love with him?" Elsie repeated, her expression stern yet sympathetic.

"No." Said Isobel, frowning at her friend "No. It was a stupid mistake that I will take full responsibility for. I was slightly drunk, and I wasn't thinking, and I made a horrible… mistake." She finished lamely

Elsie didn't say a word, but merely held on to Isobel's hand. Isobel couldn't think of anything else to say either, so they just sat there, holding hands, both lost in thought.

"I'm going to arrange that you go to Beryl's for a few weeks." Elsie said suddenly, the break in the silence causing Isobel to jump "you need to get away from this place, and I need Sybil here more than I need you."

"but-"

"No, you're going" Elsie said, holding her hand up to stop Isobel from protesting "You've been working nonstop for months on end, and now it's time for you to stop. Charles and I can manage here just fine, now that both these cases are complete. Everything else we will handle, or it can wait until you come back. You need to get away from here. I know you Izzie, you'll bury yourself in work and ignore this."

"It deserves to be ignored" Isobel argued, but was met only with a determined look from Elsie

"You're going." She said

"I thought you said that you can't just take a week off because you had a bad morning" Isobel said "besides, you're already an associate short, and I'm needed here."

"Sybil will be back in the morning. When was the last time you took time off for something other than a public holiday?" Elsie asked. She carried on, not waiting for Isobel to give an answer "I think it was for a few days after Mathew graduated. It's high time you went again, and you need somewhere that's familiar but where people won't harass you over today."

"So you decide to send me to Beryl? The queen of nosy?"

"I will speak to Beryl"

"Ha!" Isobel exclaimed 'When has that ever stopped her? I don't need a holiday, I need to work.""

"You do need a holiday. And honestly I need a holiday from you." Elsie said, smiling at her self depreciation "Don't argue" she said, holding up her hand as Isobel opened her mouth to do exactly that. Isobel shut her mouth with an audible snap, and pulled a face. She knew it would be pointless arguing with Elsie, she had that steely glint in her eye that Isobel loved when it was directed at someone other than herself.

Elsie, recognizing that she had won the argument nodded in satisfaction and stood up, pulling Isobel up with her.

"I'm sorry this happened Izzie" she said, pulling Isobel into a hug. Isobel was not a hugger as a rule, but she allowed herself to relax against her friend and breath in her familiar scent.

"If you don't want to visit Beryl, I suppose you could always go and visit your mother." Elsie commented. For the first time that day Isobel felt a genuine smile tug at her lips.

"I'd rather go and visit Violet"" she said, pulling back from the hug.

"I'm sure Violet would love to have you." Elsie replied with a wink, before making her way to Isobel's door. "I'll bring you a cup of tea. I haven't told the rest of the office what happened as yet, but pretty soon it will be all over. I will allow you to send this afternoon hiding in your office."

Isobel sank back into her chair as Elsie disappeared. It wouldn't be long before everyone knew, things like this would spread like wildfire through the office. But Isobel was glad that she had a friend and business partner like Elsie.

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 **Please review if you have a spare minute**


	9. Chapter 9

**Oh my word its another chapter! I know, I'm as shocked as you are. Its really late, and I'm never going to wake up on time tomorrow morning and there is probably a hundred mistakes in here BUT its a chapter right? Anyway, no Richobel here, but I did get to explore some different characters, one of which did not turn out how I thought she would. Please enjoy!**

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Isobel was bored. She was eight days into her forced holiday to Beryl and she was about to go stir crazy.

Elsie had been right, it was nice to get away from the office, and the holiday was appreciated. She had enjoyed the few days not having to wear heels, and worry that her hair looked absolutely tidy. It had been nice to wake up late, and not have to worry about traffic and stockings. It had been nice having someone to talk to in the evenings.

But now she was tired of it, and wanted to get back to work.

She had spent the first few nights staying up late to chat to Beryl, the two of them getting up to all sorts of mischief with various board games, which started out innocent but soon turned into a gossip fest about their mutual acquaintances. However, Beryl was out at the restaurant for most of the day, and had flat out refused when Isobel offered to come, spouting some nonsense about Isobel needing some peace and quiet in a suspiciously Elsie like tone. It had suited Isobel for the first few days, it left her free to potter around without constantly trying to be the perfect guest, while Beryl made a vague attempt to be the perfect host, all the while swearing under her breath at the mismatched pillow cases she had managed to dig up.

Isobel had even gone to see a movie with Daisy. She had known the young girl for almost ten years, but she had never really had a chance to get to know her. It had surprised her that the quiet and shy girl was actually extremely clever, and she had enjoyed their evening together immensely. But Daisy was at the resteraunt most of the time as well, and Isobel didn't know anyone else in the area to talk to. She had never been the sort of person to go out and chat to strangers. Her mother had often told her that that was the reason she had so few friends. Isobel had argued that at least all her friends were real, to which her mother had scoffed and Isobel had flounced away and slammed her bedroom door. Although, as she wandered through Beryl's flat, looking for something to do, she was beginning to see that her mother didn't have so many friends for the sake of friendship, but more for the reason of having something to do.

She had read the three books she had brought with her, guessing the endings on all three currently long before the endings actually occurred. She walked around the block once a day, taking in the slight change of scenery. Beryl had a large oak tree at the end of her street which Isobel was particulary partial too, but eventually even that was beginning to seem mundane. There were only so many walks one could take though, so eventually Isobel had returned to her temporary home, and reread on of Beryl's magazines.

It was a small flat Beryl lived in, simple with a bedroom, a tiny spare bedroom that doubled as an office, a kitchen, bathroom and lounge. She wondered if Beryl would be offended if she rearranged her books for her into alphabetical order, but decided that it would come across as rather rude. She spent a few minutes putting the Cluedo set that was still left out from the night before away, and tucked it neatly away in the cupboard she thought Beryl had pulled it out from.

Isobel was not one to go through other peoples stuff, she had always had a healthy respect for privacy, even as a child. But Beryl had little more than cook books on her shelves, and the odd sappy romance novels that Isobel refused point blank to read, so she continued to poke through the cupboard. There was an old knitting magazine, that Isobel could not imagine Beryl having ever had a use for, an empty box of chocolates, and a stack of DVDs. Isobel sat back on her haunches and sighed. It wasn't the ideal way to spend her day, but at least she wouldn't be bored to tears. She started to flick through the titles, getting more and more despondent. She found a few Disney movies, some more romance, a couple of seasons of various legal shows, and the complete collection of Greys Anatomy.

She hated legal shows, and she had seen Frozen more times than she could count. She considered Greys, but decided that she really wasn't in the mood to watch a show about good looking doctors. Frowning, she straightened up and glanced at her laptop which was lying on the coffee table.

Yesterday she had even considered trying to get some work done, figuring Elsie would never know if she replied to a few emails, did a few drafts. It was quiet here, so she would be able to get a lot done without any interruptions. It had taken her all of three minutes to figure out that Elsie had somehow managed to lock her out of the work system, and had sworn violently. That woman had always known her too well.

Shooting daggers at her laptop she lay down on the couch, and watched the clock as it ticked by. She wondered if Sybil was back at work, or if she had taken more time off. She ought to get her a gift. Perhaps tomorrow she would walk down to the shops and find her something.

Isobel snorted to herself. She doubted there was anything in any shop that she could get Sybil to apologize for what she had done.

She contemplated phoning her sister. They hadn't spoken in months, never had anything to discuss anyway, but at least it would be something to do. Her sister and her were like chalk and cheese, and had never had much in common once they had grown up. Her sister had married a banker, and lived a dull life with three children who constantly seemed to be at after school activities. Laura was head of various mothers meetings, and spent her life hosting teas and going shopping. Conversation between the two sisters always felt very false and forced. Each would ask about the other, and Isobel would listen politely while Laura complained about something happening in her life. It usually took about half an hour, especially when Isobel was forced to say a few words to the kids and the husband, and was therefore she only usually phoned on high days and holiday. But at this point in time she was so bored that she wondered if she could possibly spin it out for over an hour. She was sure she could think up something interesting to say about swimming, or she could listen to her sister berate her for her terribly lonely life, or for not phoning their mother.

Isobel dialed the number and waited for the call to connect, fully prepared to hear her sisters usual pretentious greeting. Instead, she got a mechanical voice informing her that the number she had dialed was currently unavailable and to please try again later. There was no option to leave a message.

She dropped her phone onto the couch next to her and stared at the ceiling, allowing her mind to take her wherever it wanted. She spent a few happy moments imaging Violet and Gladys Denker getting their comeuppance one way or another, but eventually even that got old. She contemplated phoning Charles and trying to get him to let her into the work system, but even as the thought crossed her mind she knew it was pointless. There was no way he would ever go against Elsie's wishes.

In many ways, Isobel thought to herself, those two are sickening with their happy ending story. Not that she wasn't happy for them, she was. The deserved each other, and loved each other. But occasionally they made Isobel feel lonely and a bit like a third wheel.

She knew she was being unreasonable to think such things, especially when she had probably been just as bad, if not worse, when she had first met Reginald. Elsie had never said a word though and had cried like a baby at her wedding. Isobel felt awful for occasionally feeling envious of Elsie's relationship with Charles.

Isobel glanced at the clock. It was mid morning. There would be a long wait until Beryl returned to the flat, and Isobel was afraid that she would have jumped out the window by then. Groaning as her knees clicked when she got to her feet she headed over to the door and grabbed her coat. Beryl Patmore was not the boss of her, and neither was Elsie Hughes, so she was going to walk down to the restaurant whether they liked it or not.

Beryl Patmore was a fierce business woman, despite her appearance. She was more often than not red faced with smudge of flour somewhere upon her person, with an apron tied around her hips. You would never guess that she could argue for bargains better than anyone Isobel had ever met.

One of the great selling points of Beryl's small restaurant apart from the relaxed atmosphere and good service was great food at a reasonable price, and Isobel finally understood how she did it.

When Isobel had arrived the restaurant was closed, the chairs piled up on the tables and the table cloths still folded away. She had to knock on the door to get someone to open it for her, not even thinking to use the back door like Beryl and the rest of the staff did. One of the waitresses, a girl named Ivy, was mopping the floor quietly but had paused to let Isobel in, not saying a word as she did so, merely smiling when Isobel had thanked her. Isobel had taken a moment to take in the light blue walls, dark wooden tables and the simple lighting before searching for Beryl. She eventually found her, standing in the kitchen, throwing ingredients into a bowl with possibly a little more force than necessary and arguing over the price of mushrooms with a overweight and slightly sweaty man. The man was having none of it though and as the minutes ticked by their voices got louder and louder. Beryl paused to glare at him, and as she did she noticed Isobel hovering in the back ground, but instead of insisting that she went back to the flat Beryl merely rolled her eyes and pointed her to a chair before continuing with her argument. She turned the mixer on, leaving it to do what it was supposed to while she headed to the fridge. Their argument didn't pause, just got even louder as they shouted over the whirr of the mixer. Beryl returned and handed Isobel a glass of Lemonade, raising a finger to indicate that Isobel was to sit there and behave.

Isobel had never bothered to think of mushrooms, other than they tasted nice, but according to Beryl there was an art in growing them and an entire process went into the selling and buying of them. She and the man seemed to be arguing over both the price and the quality, with her claiming he was charging way too much, and him protesting that she wasn't aware of the bargain she was getting. Slowly but surely they were closing in on each other, with Beryl slowing upping her offer, and him slowly lowering his price. Isobel sat and sipped her drink, watching the process with interest.

A few minutes later the back door opened with a clatter and Daisy hurried in. She dropped her bag next to the coat rack, and struggled with her coat before waving to Beryl as she hung it up. Beryl ignored her, and with an eyeroll, Daisy fished her phone out of her pocket, plugged her earphones in and made her way to the freezer to begin hauling supplies out.

"Would you like some help?" Isobel offered from her seat, causing Daisy to jump. "Oh sorry Isobel, I didn't see you there." Daisy said with a smile, puffing slightly as she lugged a large basket out "It's easier if I do it myself" she said kindly but firmly "else I have to explain where everything goes and it ends up taking longer than ever."

"Well, let me know if you change your mind." Isobel offered looking concerned. A cackle came from Beryl's direction, causing them both to look up in alarm

"Is this a regular thing?" Isobel asked, nodding towards them as the argument continued.

"Every single time he comes in." Daisy said, shouldering the freezer door closed "It's got to the stage where I can guess at what price they'll settle on and I'm usually right. I don't know why they can't just cut to the chase and settle on that to begin with. Any minute from now she'll rope me in."

As if on cue Beryl turned around, her eyebrows raised and her hands planted on her hips

"Daisy!" she barked "do you hear how much this man wants to charge me for a few measly mushrooms?"

"Its appaling Mrs Patmore." Daisy replied in a weary voice. Apparently satisfied, Beryl turned off the mixer and said in a smug tone, her voice immediately returning to its normal pitch

"There we are Mr Tufton," she said loftily "even Daisy can see you're ripping us off. I'll give you half of that at most."

The back door swung open again, and this time a tall man stepped inside. He took one look at the scene in front of him and sighed. He grabbed an apron from the hook and tied it around his waist.

"Good morning Alfred" Beryl said, catching sight of him out of the corner of her eye.

"Morning Mrs Patmore." he greeted, nodding in her direction before heading over to give Daisy a hand. He effortlessly lifted a large bag of flour onto the counter for her, earning himself a rare smile. "Mr. Tufton." He added, nodding at the man "Are you two almost done? We open for lunch in an hour."

"Alfred, how many times have I told you that bargaining cannot be rushed?" Beryl snapped, before turning back to Mr. Tufton. "That's my final offer" she said to him. He pretended to think about it for a few moments before heaving a great sigh.

"Very well" he said, "add a piece of whatever you've got going and I'll call it square."

Beryl narrowed her eyes at him and he smirked in response.

"Daisy!" she barked suddenly, causing the young girl to jump "find Mr Tufton a piece of that apple cake we had left over."

Daisy didn't even bother answering, but merely grabbed a paper plate from a shelf and starting cutting a piece of cake. She handed it to the man, and picked up the box of mushrooms, leaving Beryl to hand over the rest of the payment.

Isobel waited until he had left before asking

"Does it always take that long? I've never heard of you arguing with suppliers."

"To be honest I probably would have paid his original asking price." Beryl said, now pouring batter into cake tins "But he makes it so easy to beat him down, and it gives me my weekly entertainment."

"It seems a lot of work for a few mushrooms" Isobel remarked

"It's something different each week." Beryl said "he owns the fruit and veg shop a few streets down, doesn't even need to come in here to flog stuff, but he knows he gets free cake out of it so" she shrugged

Isobel raised an eyebrow in her direction, which Beryl studiously ignored.

"Mr. Tufton has been coming in here since we started" Daisy supplied. She had returned to the front of the kitchens, carrying a large bowl of unshelled peas, and had turned her music off. "He had a thing for Mrs Patmore, insisted on only talking to her, even though both myself and Alfred can sign for orders. Got a bit annoying really, because he would insist on waiting for her if she was out. We started giving him cake, because it felt awkward just leaving him there and he's been coming back ever since."

"Well, it wasn't just the baking he was interested in." Alfred said, a cheeky smile lighting up his face. He was peeling potatoes, at a alarmingly fast rate.

"That's true" Daisy said, clearly enjoying herself "He eventually asked her out. They went on two whole dates."

"Daisy!" Beryl protested, while Isobel choked on her drink. "I swear to god if you ever mention that to Elsie, I will beat you like an egg." She added, glaring at Isobel.

"You've never told her?" Isobel asked once she'd regained control. Beryl was quiet for a moment as she navigated the oven door with two large cake tins in her hands. She slid them in and the door closed with a bang

"Absolutely not." Beryl said shortly, pulling her oven mitts off. 'We went on two dates and they were both awful. In the end I just refused to go on another one. Thankfully he understood, and we went back to being reluctant business associates."

"Why didn't you tell her?" Isobel asked, cocking her head in curiosity. "I thought you two told each other practically everything."

Beryl sighed, and flung herself down in the chair next to Isobel.

"Daisy," won't you get me a glass of that lemonade?" she called over her shoulder, before returning her attention to Isobel "Do you remember when Elsie and Charles first got together?" she asked "Officially I mean, not the longing looks and Elsie agonizing for hours over what tie to get him for Christmas."

Isobel thought back. It was hard to believe that they had only become a couple a few years ago. It often felt like those two had been together for ever, and it became easy for forget the office tension, the denials and the amount of thought that went into Christmas gifts from one to the other. When they eventually had come to their senses and were officially seeing each other, not much changed, except that they were a lot more relaxed around each other. They always worked well together, and you knew that they were friends, but there had been stiffness to them as well. A clear boundary. Isobel had been delighted when that boundary had disappeared for good.

"She was so happy" Beryl said, not bothering to wait for an answer "she was on cloud nine, and there was nothing that could ruin her mood for weeks on end. Elsie has always kept her feet on the ground, but I swear in the first few months she was a different person. She was almost weightless."

"I remember" Isobel said, a memory of her teasing Elsie for being far too happy for a Monday morning "She and Charles never had large displays of public affection in the office, but both of them were very easy going. Still are compared to the past."

"Exactly." Beryl said with a nod. "Well, truth be told I was a little jealous. I wanted that happiness, that feeling of being complete. I'm not saying you need a man to be complete" she added, raising a threatening finger "but everyone needs someone to pay attention to them sometimes? Preferably in a manner that's not entirely proper. "

Isobel didn't reply but merely picked up her drink and swirled it around. Perhaps that is why she had completely lost her head with Dr Clarkson? Maybe she was just desperate for attention. She didn't want to admit it, but she was a little lonely living in her flat with a cat and numerous books.

"So, why is it exactly that Elsie shipped you off to me?"Beryl asked as Daisy slid the drink in front of her. Isobel looked at her blankly for a few moments, before realizing that Elsie obviously had not told her the whole story.

"I fancied a break."

"Ha!" Beryl said rather rudely "pull the other one."

Isobel sighed "I got too involved in a case, and ruined an associate's first case in court. "

"You're not one of those ones that got engaged to an inmate are you? " Beryl said frowning. She glanced over her shoulder to check on her staff, but Daisy had gone back to her peas, Alfred had moved onto peeling carrots, and Ivy was sorting cutlery. All three of them had their earbuds in and were clearly not listening to a word the two woman were saying.

"No" Isobel said, shaking her head. She ducked her head to avoid looking at Beryl, and spoke to her half empty glass instead "I stupidly got involved with one of our expert witnesses, and the other side found out and used it as leverage in the case."

"You see." Beryl said, after a beat of silence "attention that's not proper. We all need it."

"That may be so" Isobel said, finishing her drink and standing up "But it was stupid to choose someone in the middle of our most difficult cases this year."

"Can't argue with that." Beryl said with a cheeky grin "Actually, we have a client here that you might like to meet. His name is-" Beryl clicked her fingers as she tried to remember, before bursting out "Richard!" Isobel felt her blood go cold. Surely Dr. Clarkson wouldn't turn up here as well? The man was like a particularly irritating rash

"Grey" Beryl finished "Richard Grey, Dickie to his friends. He's a medical sales rep for Merton's , so you'd have something to discuss at first."

Isobel breathed a little easier. It wasn't Dr Clarkson. Still, she had no desire to get involved with anyone else. Especially not with someone named Richard.

"I'll pass thank you Beryl" she said, rinsing her glass out "I've had enough trouble for quite awhile."

Beryl cocked her head and studied Isobel, her stare never wavering. Isobel stared right back, unfazed at Beryl's attempt to unnerve her. Eventually Beryl heaved a great sigh and broke her stare.

"Well," she said "are you going to tell me about this expert witness that you got involved in? So I know your type?"

"You met my husband. He was my type." Isobel replied.

"I'll rephrase." Beryl said, the lingo of the lawyers she was friends with clearly rubbing off on her. "I fancy a little girl chat, and as the other three are not listening, you have no excuse not to give it to me. Was he good looking? Funny? Why him out of all the other witnesses you've dealt with over the years?"

Isobel walked away, taking her glass to the sink in order to buy herself some time to think of an answer. Beryl followed her though, under the pretense of checking on the cake. She peered comically through the glass door, but all too soon her main focus was once again Isobel, who tucked a stray hair behind her ear and shrugged

"I don't even know." Isobel confessed. She turned to lean against the counter and folded her arms in front of her. "Even before I met him, I researched him for the case and there was just something about him that made me want to know more. Then I met him, and he just seemed to brighten things up you know?"

"So how did you end up getting involved with him?" Beryl asked, carefully removing the cake from the oven and leaving it on the cooling rack. She then started collecting the dirty mixing bowls and moved them to the sink, before filling it with hot water.

Isobel explained about what had happened when Richard- Dr Clarkson- had taken her home, and Beryl listened while she did the washing up, carefully keeping her face neutral as Isobel talked, for once holding her tongue until Isobel had finished. She explained about the wine, and about the drive home. She told Beryl about the kiss, the words spilling from her lips easier than she ever thought they would. In a way, it was almost liberating to be able to tell her version of the story first, without someone's judgment being clouded by Violet or Sybil's version first.

"You didn't tell me he was a witness in one of your cases. " She accused light heartedly "I would have flirted a bit harder then. I thought he was a friend of yours, and that you were interested in him. I would never have pushed for him to give you a lift if I'd known."

"You were a little drunk at the time" Isobel pointed out, poking her friend gently "I think you might have pushed for anything at that point"

"Well, at any rate," Beryl continued with a laugh "it was only a kiss right? When you said that you wrecked someone's first time in court I was expecting-"

"It was made to seem that way. "Isobel interrupted before Beryl could finish her sentence. She glanced at the three youngsters, all who thankfully seemed to still be bobbing away to their music "And which is easier to believe?"

"Fair point" Beryl conceded with a shrug.

Isobel grabbed a dish towel and started drying what Beryl had washed, and for a few minutes they worked in silence, both of them thinking about Isobel's revelation.

The phone rang, causing them both to jump, and Beryl hurriedly wiped her hands and went to answer it, shouting for Daisy to finish the washing up. Daisy removed her earphones and did as she was told. Both she and Isobel listened to Beryl argue with another supplier on the phone.

"Don't you open soon?" Isobel asked when they had finally finished and Daisy was rinsing the sink out.

Daisy nodded "Yes, but we don't really do cooked meals for lunch. Most of the preparation was for tonight, and Alfred has been doing what he can to get ready for the lunch rush. Any minute now Mrs Patmore will start shouting at poor Ivy because the table cloths aren't on the tables yet."

Sure enough, Beryl slammed the phone down ten minutes later, took one look at the clock and starting shouting. Ivy, who at the time was refilling salt shakers, jumped and hurried to do as she was told. With a sigh, Daisy wandered over to finish with the salt, clearing up what Ivy had spilt as she did so.

Just as the last table was declared ready, the first client appeared at the door. Isobel could see it was going to be a busy afternoon, and decided to return to the flat. She had a funny feeling she would be more of a hindrance than a help if she stayed.

Beryl was distracted and barely noticed when Isobel waved goodbye, but Daisy called her back.

"I know its none of my business" she said shyly " but I couldn't help but overhear what you said to Mrs Patmore….about the witness?"

Isobel felt her face flush, which Daisy kindly ignored

"Its..its just that I don't think you should turn your back on that sort of thing" Daisy said in a bit of a rush "there's obviously this connection for a reason."

"Are you telling me its fate?" Isobel asked skeptically, and Daisy shook her head

"Not fate, no. But I personally believe that if there's that connection then it's either someone you need in your life, or it's a lesson you need to learn."

"I think the lesson has been learnt. "Isobel pointed out. A few more customers walked in and Daisy walked off to go and help them, a friendly smile lighting up her face as she went. She turned on her heel last moment though, the smile dropping slightly to one that seemed all knowing and asked

"Then why is he still in your head?"

* * *

 **Why indeed? Please leave a review if you can spare a few moments!**


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